Uneasy coexistence
by DeGlace
Summary: One grinning shark–man. One pink–haired medic. Ankles. Teeth. Kisame x Sakura. Yes, you read that right.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** The sections that annoyed me have now been re-written. This is now much closer to my original vision for the fic (which I didn't quite have the skill to render properly two years ago). If you actually prefer the horrific old version, I can only question the quality of your literary acumen because I really want an excuse to use the word 'acumen.' It's still quite rough around the edges, especially the early chaps – but hey, that's first fics for you. I can't work miracles!

Sakura is a 21 year old medic in this fic. Kisame is the blue shark dude who needs some loving in a form other than that mascara-abusing fruit pie Itachi. Samehada is Kisame's huge chakra-eating sword. (I need a compensation joke or three.)

As a final note, this story doesn't take itself too seriously and you shouldn't take it too seriously either. Cheers!

VVVVVV

_Northeast Konoha, early evening. _

Our story today begins with the timeless eloquence of the following words:

"Well, fuck."

They were spoken by a very disoriented, very angry, very scared Sakura when she returned to consciousness and, after having groggily stared at a flapping piece of red and black material near her face, she realized that she was currently trussed up like a prize turkey, slung across the shoulder of a member of the Akatsuki and being carried through a forest at high speed.

For the benefit of the reader, Sakura indulged briefly in the kind of reminiscing that would supply all with a suitable back-story to explain this situation.

We note that this reminiscing took the form of flashbacks and thus our rendition of her recollection will be fragmentary at best and liberally peppered with dashes:

Sakura had been out on a routine mission with Kakashi and Naruto in the Konoha forest when two well-known Akatsuki revealed themselves suddenly – a confusion of shouts and blasts of chakra had ensued – Itachi's insidious genjutsus had made everyone vacillate in and out of reality like so many wavering pieces of ash-grey paper – Kisame's Samehada had ripped through Naruto's calves and deprived him of his chakra – Kakashi had taken Kisame on one-on-one while Itachi recited dark poetry – Leaf reinforcements had arrived in the form of Team Gai shouting about youth – and then all had gone black.

This was sufficient recollecting for Sakura to narrow down the result of her current predicament to one of two possible outcomes: either she was being carried by Itachi, which would mean that she was going to be seduced by him and then be slain very dramatically while she thought profound thoughts about how much he looked like Sasuke, or she was being carried by Kisame, which would mean that she was about to be raped, killed and eaten, and not necessarily in that order.

As she watched the forest below her fly by with each powerful leap of her captor, Sakura decided that an escape attempt was probably in order since she was getting major vertigo, and so she tried to reach her weapons pouch to grab a kunai or a shuriken or a chainsaw or some other item that was good to sever heads with.

After having strained uselessly at her bonds for a few minutes, Sakura was forced to take note of the fact she was not, in fact, Chris Angel, and she couldn't extricate herself from the ropes in a Houdini-esque move, and all she could reach when she really wriggled her fingers was a kleenex in one of her pockets which wasn't going to be of much use for severing heads and that was when Sakura said, "well, fuck."

And now our story really begins without further digression into such trivial, unimportant things as exposition and the establishment of narrative direction.

When Sakura said "well, fuck," a voice responded in the form of "awake, little kunoichi?"

Then they started moving downwards, down, down, limb by limb until the undergrowth rustled under the feet of Sakura's captor and Sakura was dropped unceremoniously onto the thick undergrowth from a height of approximately six and a half feet, which hurt.

"Ouch," said Sakura to the pair of feet in front of her face. "That was unnecessary."

"I have been carrying you for fifteen hours," said the owner of the feet, "if anything, you owe me a back rub."

And then Sakura rolled over and took a good look at the Akatsuki and woe was upon her because there in the quasi-dark of evening stood Kisame with his blue skin and his pale eyes and his too many teeth and his gigantic sword(s). Sakura felt ripped off because even if Itachi was completely deranged, at least he was cute.

"What do you want me for?" asked Sakura in the dumb way that kidnap victims have of expecting a straight answer.

"Live bait," said Kisame in the cryptic way kidnappers have because they are very deep and mysterious and also because he liked the fishing imagery involved since he had the shark thing going on.

"Live bait?" said Sakura with growing disappointment because she could see where this was going.

"For getting the Kyuubi where we want him, when we want him," said Kisame, and then he planted his sword into the ground inches from Sakura's face, squatted next to it and gave her a horribly toothy grin.

Sakura felt very sad because that plan, coupled with kidnap, made for a depressingly unoriginal adventure and she wanted her money back.

"Listen, gills –" started Sakura.

"Listen, cupcake –" started Kisame at the same time.

"It's Sakura," said Sakura.

"It's Kisame," said Kisame.

They glared at each other for a while at this point because the nicknames which they had imposed upon one another were rather undignified.

Then, since introductory matters had been taken care of so satisfactorily, Kisame got up and started making camp and Sakura moped about like a pink-haired trussed-up turkey and mused about the alarming frequency with which she was abducted.

Then Sakura remarked loudly that she needed to pee and it occurred to her that if Kisame untied her to let her go, she could maybe hightail it out of there, which sounded like a good plan.

Unfortunately for Sakura, Kisame was not quite the dumb brute that he appeared to be and he had tied her tightly enough and long enough that, when he sliced open the ropes binding her a few moments later, Sakura's limbs were near-useless and she was not going to be hightailing it, or even lowtailing it, anywhere.

"You have five minutes," Kisame said with a gesture towards some shrubs, "If you're not back by then, I'll fetch you. You're in no condition to get very far."

Sakura had to agree when she found that the best method of propulsion she had access to when she managed to get to her feet was an unstable wobbling walk, and so she wobbled into the undergrowth and relieved herself.

Once she had done so, she did a rapid calculation of how far away she could get within the four minutes of time she had left before Kisame came to get her, and the result was an unsatisfactory 15 feet 7 inches, which wasn't much of a head start. Consequently, Sakura wobbled her way back to Kisame because she had no desire to be fetched by him since that probably entailed being carried back to camp and unceremoniously dumped onto the forest floor again and her tailbone was already bruising from the first time.

When Sakura returned to where Kisame was, she found to her considerable irritation that he was examining her pack and stripping it of everything remotely sharp and pointy. In front of him was a shiny pile of various weapons including Sakura's collection of kunai, a trick blade that had been concealed in the strap of her pack, the several dozen shuriken that had lined the external pocket, a pocket knife, two tubes of chapstick and a pencil.

"Hey," said Sakura when Kisame pulled out her little pouch of tampons. "That's private."

Kisame snorted in amusement and, in a surprising show of gentlemanly restraint, he did not open Sakura's tampons and fling them around for fun but returned them to the bag. After having rummaged through the remainder of Sakura's belongings in search of other dangerous objects, he returned the pack to her with a smirk. "You can have this back now."

Sakura clutched her pack possessively to her chest and resisted the urge to return Kisame's smirk, because in her little tampon pouch there were eight poisoned senbon and a smokebomb and she would make use of those, and well, make no mistake, so that's what gentlemanly restraint gets you and let this be a lesson. Sakura felt very hardcore and ninjalike at this thought.

Then Kisame looked up suddenly as though he had heard something and he said "stay here, kunoichi" to Sakura and he left the little campsite very quickly.

Watching him go, Sakura massaged her sore ankles and could only assume that Kisame had gone to do horrible things in the forest such as maiming and eating innocent wildlife. In any case his departure gave Sakura the time she needed to assess her situation and determine on a course of action.

Sakura's first assessment of her situation was that it was completely uncool and it sucked pretty hard.

Then she re-assessed it because the first assessment didn't have the appropriate military tone or terminology. "My damage recovery estimation from injuries sustained in combat is approximately twenty-four hours once I have proceeded with proper medical protocols," Sakura told herself as she healed her damaged wrists and ankles. "Until then I will be unable to escape and engage in strategic communication with my squadron. The hostile has access to a WMD which is AKA 'Samehada' that can remove my chakra and make me conclusively MIA. I will therefore refrain from escalating the situation by attempting to escape until I see the opportunity for a plan of evasive action."

This satisfied Sakura immensely and she was very proud of herself for having produced such incomprehensible jargon. (Though she wished she knew more obscure military acronyms like IRA and ASAP and BYOB and YMCA.)

After she had healed herself and since Kisame had gone and disappeared so handily, Sakura thought this might actually be an opportunity to take evasive action in the making. She therefore moved sneakily to the edge of the clearing, where she paused, listened and looked.

Then she took one tiny step into the forest just to see what would happen.

What happened was a thump behind her which signaled the landing of a pissy Mist missing nin.

"Going somewhere?" Kisame asked.

"No," said Sakura, who turned to look up at Kisame and felt suddenly very short, "of course not."

"Good," said Kisame, and he watched Sakura make her way very meekly back to the camp.

Sakura plopped herself down and decided to postpone her plan of evasive action until a more suitable time when her legs weren't wobbly and pissy Mist missing nin weren't landing behind her in scary ways.

When Kisame sat across from her, Sakura noticed that his Samehada had two large streaks of fresh blood running down its white bindings and she asked what innocent wildlife he had killed for no reason.

Kisame looked at the blood on his sword and wondered what the hell kind of innocent wildlife could possibly leave such large still-dripping stains of blood, but he said nothing because the blood was in fact that of two members of a Leaf retrieval squad which had minutes ago come very close to catching up with them and which Kisame had made quick work of, but Sakura didn't need to know that. "Two bunnies," said Kisame, "they annoyed me."

Before Sakura could go PETA on his ass, Kisame began to make some hand seals.

"The usual practice, kunoichi," he said when Sakura began to pull away apprehensively. "Hand."

Sakura absolutely refused to hold out her hand because a moment of heroic resistance seemed to be in order, and a short skirmish ensued wherein Sakura determinedly refused to give Kisame access to either hand and backed away with increasing rapidity while Kisame tried to get a hold of one of her arms. Then Kisame took one large step forward, snatched Sakura up bodily with horrifying ease, grabbed her forearm and made some sort of binding seal which rapidly worked its way up Sakura's arm and through the rest of her body.

"Try to behave yourself," said Kisame impatiently. "Now. This is how the binding seal works," he continued as he tossed an indignant Sakura lightly to the ground a few feet off and took a few steps backwards himself.

Kisame moved his hand and Sakura felt herself being pulled irresistibly towards him.

"I control how much distance you have from me, and how much force this bind pulls you with. Understand?"

"Yes," said Sakura, who found her face squashed in Kisame's chest.

"Good girl. Now go to sleep."

Sakura pulled back and felt the chakra bond loosen as Kisame allowed her to move away.

As she unfolded her bedroll, Sakura reflected that at least Kisame did not smell like putrid fish, which was a definite plus.

When Sakura had quite settled down in her bedroll for the night – notwithstanding the violent murderous fantasies involving blue shark-men that she was entertaining – she turned to where Kisame stood and watched him move towards the forest. She blinked and he was gone, silhouetted against the trees at the other edge of the clearing.


	2. Chapter 2

_Several days later. Northern forests of the Fire Country. Late afternoon._

Kisame and Sakura drifted into an uneasy coexistence as Sakura began to become more certain that Kisame was not about to rape, kill and eat her. Her confidence was significantly boosted by this certitude, to the extent that she began to bug the crap out of Kisame in the hopes that he would find her too annoying to take care of and then commit suicide.

Unfortunately for her, it took more than that to push Kisame to the brink of suicide, so instead all she achieved was the formation of a bizarre approximation of camaraderie between them – though we note that it threatened to devolve into mutual homicide quite frequently.

On this particular sunny afternoon, Kisame wandered over to Sakura with a large trout in each hand and Sakura eyed them sternly and said, "friends of yours?"

"Cousins," said Kisame, and he smacked the two fish down in front of Sakura.

"I see the resemblance," said Sakura.

Then Sakura filleted these relations of Kisame's and fried them up very skillfully on a small flame. She had at some point during the last few days taken over food prep because, as she had informed Kisame, his cooking totally sucked. (Which was kind of an unfair statement because, as Kisame had pointed out, he never actually _cooked_ anything, he ate it raw, but Sakura thought that was beside the point.)

As Kisame ate his relatives, Sakura began to pester him about his family history and Kisame told her about how he had eaten his brothers and sisters at birth, followed by his parents at age two, and Sakura was unimpressed.

She then changed the subject by telling Kisame that his nail polish was really lame so what the hell was up with that. Kisame looked hard at his nail polish and then told her she could shove her stupid Leaf kunoichi opinion up her ass, and Sakura flicked a fish eye at him in retaliation.

At this point Kisame would have smacked her upside the head for being such an insufferable pink twit, but he didn't because first she was cute and breaking her jaw might make her ugly, and secondly because Itachi had warned him to "behave himself" and "not damage the package," so he had to refrain from beating her around. Too much.

Then, as Sakura watched Kisame stare at the fire, she realized that it was high time for a bit of descriptive twaddle and she consequently began to catalogue Kisame's facial features in great detail:

When Kisame's mouth wasn't shaped into a mocking smile, his lips settled, as they were now, into a grim line which divulged no hint of the unnaturally sharp teeth behind it. His high cheekbones were accentuated by gill-like markings, dark stripes on the blue skin. Sakura followed the line of the strong nose to his eyes. His eyes were odd eyes, pale amidst the black smudges of his eyelids. The yellow-white of the iris combined with the blackness of the pupils gave his stare an uncomfortable intensity that Sakura was still getting used to.

Sakura concluded that it was not altogether such a monstrous face as it was just… strange.

"Take a picture, kunoichi."

Sakura blinked and looked sheepishly into the fire because she had totally just been caught in a descriptive reverie and that was kind of embarrassing.

The next day, Kisame removed the polish from his nails. But only because it was already chipped and not because he gave a damn about Sakura's opinion or anything.


	3. Chapter 3

_Fast forward fourteen days. Outlands of the country of fire, two weeks by foot to the nearest hub of civilization_.

Nineteen days had elapsed. Nineteen days of living out here in the middle of nowhere, slowly making their way to some unknown location. Sakura really wanted a hot shower with nice shampoo and a fluffy bathrobe for afterwards, and a tray with a steaming pot of green tea and perhaps a buff manservant to pour it for her and also a yacht.

Constant travel really got on Sakura's nerves, especially when her companion was a moody shark-man who didn't mind eating squirrels. Raw.

Sakura sighed and closed her eyes, offering a moment of silence in memory of the latest furry victim of Kisame's horrible appetite. It had been cute too, a little grey one, she had been feeding it crumbs and then a dreadful shadow had fallen across them both and she and the squirrel had both looked up, equally wide-eyed, and the squirrel hadn't even had time to squeak out its last words…

Sakura resumed her pull-ups on a conveniently-placed branch in front of her and determined never to relive the episode in her head again because it was too traumatic.

Sakura's pull-ups were part of the maintenance training regimen which both she and Kisame engaged in after their days spent leaping across trees, because they were both such hardcore ninja and because it would eventually offer an opportunity for "training" together, which was a surefire source of sexual tension and hell if anyone would pass that up.

Off to her left somewhere, Sakura could hear Kisame doing some training of his own. Judging by the sound of it, his training involved ripping up large swathes of the undergrowth with his sword and uprooting trees with blasts of chakra-controlled water. The tree-hugger in Sakura did not approve.

Sakura rolled her eyes at a particularly loud smash. Kisame reminded her of Naruto in some sense, both were loud and brash and far too full of energy and chakra. Only Naruto actually blinked from time to time. And he didn't call her "little pink tart" before taking false swipes at her with one of the deadliest swords around.

Sakura dropped to the ground and was about to start on some kicks when she was tumbled head over heels by a torrent of water.

Her indignant scream echoed across the forest until her progress was halted by a spiky bush.

Soaked, scratched and pissed off, Sakura looked up from the dripping foliage around her to see Kisame squatting on a branch above.

"Sorry… missed my mark," Kisame said with an unapologetic grin.

Sakura wiped a strand of hair out of her face.

Slowly.

Then she leapt with chakra-enhanced speed to Kisame's branch and swung a fist towards him. When he dodged it, Sakura carried the punch through to the next thick branch so that when it snapped cleanly off from the force of it, she could look at Kisame and rub her knuckles in a threatening manner in a way that said "by the way your head is _so_ not as hard as that branch was, so be afraid."

Kisame observed the splintered stump where the branch had been very carefully and Sakura expected some compliment about how badass the punch had been.

"Hm," said Kisame, "you needed to put more shoulder into that."

Sakura was offended and indicated that this was the case by attempting to brain Kisame, and she very nearly succeeded.

Then Kisame caught her dangerous fists and asked her if she wanted to spar, because she seemed pretty eager, and Sakura informed him that he was a dick.

"You should ask more politely," said Kisame.

"Fine," said Sakura. "Let's spar. No weapons."

Kisame eyed her with his unblinking stare for several seconds, then he hung his sword on a nearby branch. "If you try to touch it, it'll –"

"Like, amputate my fingers. I know."

"Good. Now. Let's see what they teach you in Leaf."

Then they started the obligatory sparring session so as to trigger the obligatory moment of sexual tension.

They were almost evenly matched in the beginning, for about three minutes. Kisame had speed and power and Sakura had strength and accuracy – but Kisame also had years of experience and an apparently endless pit of chakra, which he dolled out in generous bursts to each punch and each hit.

After narrowly dodging several jabs, Sakura decided it was time to bring their little match to a close before she lost an eye or, you know, her head.

Ducking, Sakura feigned a few uppercuts, then swooped one leg under Kisame in a rapid roundhouse. Kisame avoided her kick easily and watched her feet for the next combo – but the next thing he knew, Sakura had fisted her hand into his cloak and flipped him onto his back. Hard. Which wasn't exactly a cool ninja move but it was nevertheless extremely effective.

Kisame tried to get back up after ascertaining that his spine had not in fact shattered, though it sure as hell felt like it had, but Sakura's hands were locked onto his wrists and pushing them into the ground somewhere above his head.

A few moments of struggled followed, during which Kisame put his considerable strength into action. The angle was too awkward, however, and Sakura was using her entire weight and chakra-enhanced strength behind holding him down. She pressed a finger to his Adam's apple.

"I win, fins."

"Sure you do, kunoichi."

Kisame pulled himself into a backwards somersault, using Sakura's pressure on his hands as leverage. Before she knew it, Sakura was being flattened by two hundred pounds of sweaty Kisame. "You were saying, little Leaf?"

A muffled, yet strident, tirade of swearing was the response that Sakura gave Kisame. It was muffled because her face was stuffed in the grass and strident because a rock was pressing into her chest and it was extremely painful.

Kisame caught "fucking shark bastard son of a bitch," which made him laugh because it was not the first time he had been called that. Now he was the one holding Sakura's wrists, knees on either side of her hips, which was pretty comfy.

Kisame was about to give a derogatory chuckle when one of Sakura's feet smacked the middle of his back. Followed by the other. And the first again.

The blows were ineffective due to Sakura's angle, but sufficed as a distraction. She heaved herself partially up, freed a fist and drew it back, ready to knock out some teeth. Kisame snarled, they struggled and he tried to catch her forearm and Sakura turned and freed a knee and waited for the appropriate moment to shove it into his gut. _And/or crotch, just to see if he's like normal men down there._

Sakura never got a chance to, however, as Kisame decided the best course of action was simply to let gravity do its thing, and Sakura's thin frame was squished beneath his 6'something form, knees trapped between thighs, wrists caught in a bone-crushing grip.

Nose to nose, they panted, glaring at each other before the usual grin made its way on Kisame's face.

"Leaf, zero, Missing nin, one," said Kisame.

Sakura huffed and wiggled ineffectively, trying to catch her breath before her next move, which would actually involve some spine-shattering if she could only get this blue thing off of her.

Kisame found himself wishing that Sakura would stop wiggling.

Or maybe continue, but in a more rhythmic manner.

He watched a trickle of sweat make its way down Sakura's neck, watched her moisten her lips while she caught her breath and planned to kill him. _Does the kunoichi taste as good as she looks? As she smells? As she feels–_

A part of his thoughts must have made its way to Kisame's expression, because Sakura was suddenly looking at him with slightly raised eyebrows.

And yes, a part of his thoughts had made its way to his expression, his smile had taken on a distinctly predatory tint and Sakura became very aware of their position, their heavy breathing, and Kisame's eyes trailing down her throat.

"Um," said Sakura, "you win?"

Kisame didn't seem to have heard, his eyes traveled back up to her mouth, almost without seeing it. Sakura gave a shove. "You can get off me now? Hey! Kisame!"

Then their eyes met, and what she saw there disturbed Sakura more than the raw squirrels.

Kisame snapped out of it and he pushed himself off Sakura with his jaw clenched. _Did she feel..? Ha ha. Fuck._

There was a problem in the vicinity of his groin which needed to be addressed immediately. A cold shower was what he needed. No showers out here. A cold swim, then. _Turn towards stream. Walk. Nonchalantly. Make a parting barb._ "Better luck next time, little Leaf."

Watching him leave, Sakura wasn't quite sure that she wanted a next time. She willed her heart rate to return to a more normal level. _Officially creeped out. _

VVVVVV

Submerged in the coolness of the stream, Kisame was angry with himself. The barely suppressed animalistic side of his character was getting a little too active of late.

A pretty little ninja prancing around did not help. A pretty little ninja with dancer's legs and dainty ankles and sparkling green eyes. A pretty little ninja who didn't run away or blanch or faint when she saw him coming, who pushed him and teased him and thwacked him with his own scrolls when he got too unpleasant.

Kisame shook his head, spraying water around. For his own benefit he ran again through the three simple components of the Akatsuki leader's mission briefing.

Mission: take kunoichi to rendez-vous point.

Time: Two months.

Details: Do not rape if possible.

How was a male of robust health who was driven largely by animal appetites supposed to function under these conditions? Kisame wondered if this was supposed to be a test of some sort to determine just how tenuous his self-control was, which was a cruel and unusual test, if so it was. Or maybe there was a bet going 'round with the other Akatsuki, "how long until Kisame blows it." Kisame decided that if he were to bet on himself, at the rate things were going he would have to say five minutes, tops.

Kisame felt Sakura watching him warily from the banks of the stream. _Must act casual._

"Care for a swim?" Kisame asked with a wide grin and an unblinking stare.

"… No thanks."

"Aw. Why not?"

"I'm… having my period."

"Liar."

"It's true."

"You had it a week and a half ago."

Sakura felt her eyebrows rise. "How would you know?"

"I can smell it, stupid."

And then Sakura ran screaming for camp because that was totally grosser than the squirrels and Kisame watched her run with an appreciative light in his pale eyes because she had a nice backside.

VVVVVV

**A/N:** If I get reviews, I'm sure they will be of the "THIS IS THE MOST DISGUSTING PAIRING I HAVE EVER READ!111" variety. It's all good, guys. Just be happy I didn't do Ibiki x Orochimaru, or something.


	4. Chapter 4

_Day thirty-two. The outlands of the outlands of the Country of Fire. Midday. _

On this day, Sakura decided that prancing through treetops at high speeds was totally overrated in terms of entertainment value. She was getting quite tired of the monotonous journey that she was making against her will. She wanted to know where they were. She wanted to know where they were going. She wanted to know what had happened to her team. She wanted Kisame to do up the stupid buckle on the stupid strap that held his sword across his back. Watching it flap around was annoying her.

Actually, watching Kisame was annoying her. Mister flounce around with feral grace from tree to tree, oh watch this I hardly need to touch the limb! And check this out, I swing over branches using only my pinky! And I'm going to get a pinecone shoved up my nostril if I keep giving Sakura those patronizing glances!

Sakura narrowed her eyes at the rapidly-moving form in front of her. _Freakin' show-off._

Sakura sped up, determined to pass Kisame, or at least catch up.

Getting to his level was depressingly difficult business. Sakura had trained with Lee a couple times, even worn weights on her legs for a while, but apparently it hadn't done much good. Kisame's leaps were approximately 45 percent longer than hers. The only reason she hadn't fallen back completely was because he stopped occasionally for her to catch up.

Sometimes Kisame dragged Sakura along with the chakra bond when she was being especially slow. It was a highly undignified way to travel, especially when he misjudged the recoil and she ended up tangled in various tree- and Kisame-limbs.

So, Sakura pushed forward, pausing on each branch barely long enough to get decent leverage for the next jump. Faster. Faster. Faster.

A moment of elation lifted Sakura's spirits as she found herself approaching Kisame quicker than ever before. Perhaps she had unlocked some higher gear in her speed? Perhaps Lee's training had paid off after all?

… Or perhaps he had just stopped again.

Sakura glared at Kisame as she swooshed by. Kisame raised his eyebrows. _Women. There's always something._

Not that he knew much about women in that sense. His experience with the gender was limited to cheap whores in various seedy brothels. And occasionally unfortunate village girls and leggy waitresses who made the mistake of catching his eye before they knew just what kind of man was hidden behind the deep cloak.

After Sakura had passed him, Kisame was content to stay a little behind, watching Sakura's loose braid rise and fall with every jump and her legs bending and unfolding gracefully.

She tended to land on tip-toe. Pretty, but ineffective. A heel to toe motion offered more leverage than simply a toe push-off. Kisame wondered if he should bother to tell her. She would probably call him a condescending prick again. Like when he informed her that she clearly did not know how to operate chopsticks. He kind of liked to get her riled.

Up in front, Sakura was feeling rather pleased with herself because she was totally holding her lead and kicking ass. _Eat my dust, fishfa-_

Sakura suddenly felt a sickening plunge in her stomach as her leg folded suddenly underneath her, no longer supporting her weight, and she grabbed for the branch and missed –

And a hand griped her wrist, fireman-style, before she dropped.

Sakura was yanked upwards by Kisame, who laughed when he saw her embarrassment and heard her cursing about weak ankles.

"… It runs in the family. Weak ankles, I mean," said Sakura with a furious look.

"I see," said Kisame with an attempt at a grave expression.

"You don't believe me."

"Nope."

"I hate you."

Sakura fought a smile, fought a giggle, fought a laugh, and then couldn't fight any more when she realized quite how silly she had been. Good thing she hadn't actually said "eat my dust", or this would be pretty embarrassing. _But he's still a fishface._

Kisame liked her when she laughed. It was… really quite charming. Head back, white teeth glinting slightly in the dusky forest, then an abashed-slash-amused pensive look. Pretty eyes.

They resumed their travel. Kisame moved ahead again and Sakura needed to say something, something scathing, something really nasty to wipe that smirk off of his face.

Something that would shock his delicate sensibilities and make him miss a step. Something absolutely devastating.

"You have a cute butt," said Sakura in the most absolutely devastating manner one could possibly make such a statement in.

_Smooth, Sakura. Real smooth. _

But it worked. Kisame gave her a "the fuck?" half-glance over his shoulder and failed to land properly.

Sakura almost felt bad when Kisame hit a branch with his face. Almost. He had his forehead protector on, after all.

Sakura peered into the dimness to see where Kisame had fallen to. _I am SO good. You call that an S-class criminal? Ha ha ha._

A "poof" sound behind her, a push against her back, and Sakura found herself falling for the second time in so many minutes. _Shit._ She managed to snap the limb that Kisame was on as she fell.

They ended up wrestling like ten year olds on the forest floor.

VVVVVV

Kisame was in a good mood that night, busy by the fireside. Sakura watched him work, skinning a large rabbit with his teeth.

A/N: Sorry. Let's have that again.

Kisame was in a good mood that night, busy by the fireside. Sakura watched him work, skinning a large rabbit with a kunai.

Her eyes drifted from the fire she was tending to Samehada, lying on the floor a few feet away, and Sakura had an inexplicable urge to prod it with a stick.

Sakura glanced at Kisame. He wasn't watching. She casually picked up an unburned branch.

Then she prodded at the bandages which wrapped the sword.

It was really a strange weapon. Almost sentient, in the way it rattled all by itself occasionally, and knew when Sakura was around as opposed to Kisame.

Sakura had been expecting it to react to a poke, but it didn't. She moved the branch to the blue tooth-like protuberances which weren't covered by the wrappings. They quivered slightly at the touch. Odd, rough texture.

Sakura's stomach tightened when she remembered that this was the same sword that had crippled Naruto, that day of the fight.

And then it occurred to her that it was high time for some melancholy retrospection, and so she began to reminisce very nostalgically about how much she loved Naruto and Kakashi and Tsunade and in fact everyone in the world except Kisame and yet here she was stuck with Kisame and that sucked big time.

A surge of homesickness washed through Sakura. She pulled her stick away from Samehada as it had been gnawing slowly at the wood by catching it between its sandpaper-like growths.

Kisame felt Sakura's mood change. Living in close contact without the usual distractions of other people and their mixtures of emotions meant that the two were very in tune to each other, totally on the same wavelength like a pair of vibin' hippie bros. Dude.

Kisame saw Sakura poke his sword, then desist with slightly drooped shoulders and a distant look in her green eyes. _Aw. Kunoichi is homesick._ _Some ninja._

Kisame considered telling Sakura that he hadn't given Samehada a thorough cleaning since that fight, and therefore chunks of Naruto were still in there somewhere, so she could hug it if she wanted. He decided not to when he saw her wipe something invisible from the corner of her eye.

Why he would actually give a damn, he did not know.

Silence ensued.

Then Kisame passed Sakura a chunk of medium-rare rabbit on a spit.

And she burst into tears.

…_Women. _

Kisame decided the best course of action was to ignore Sakura. So he did. Standing up to walk away, he ignored the wracking sobs shaking her thin frame, the tremulous breaths she fought to take in and the oh-so-vulnerable way her head collapsed into her hands.

However, he found it difficult to keep ignoring Sakura when she began to smother her face into his chest, especially since she was both trying to hit him and hold him at the same time.

Sakura settled for gripping onto Kisame's cloak with vicious determination while she willed her emotions to please, please calm the hell down because this situation was really quite ridiculous.

Kisame stood still, feeling exceedingly awkward because he didn't know what to do with helpless emotional females when they cried too loudly and got snot on his cloak, except kill them. But that wasn't allowed in this case.

Kisame settled for hoping that Itachi didn't decide to drop by and check on him right now. He could see it now: "I told you not to damage her. What happened?" "I gave her some meat and she started to cry. Maybe she doesn't like medium-rare rabbit. I don't know."

As Sakura wept an unpleasant mixture of tears and, yes, probably snot into Kisame's cloak, Kisame wondered if he was supposed to be doing something with his hands. He stared at the top of Sakura's head and patted her gingerly on the back.

Sakura's breathing became more regular as the obligatory nostalgic phase came to its conclusion and the obligatory realization that the enemy was comforting her was initiated.

With her face pressed into Kisame's cloak, Sakura could hear a heartbeat. It was strangely comforting, considering that she hated this man and tried to injure him several times a day. He was warm and he breathed and she just needed some contact right now. Human. Sort of.

"Sorry," said Sakura in a muffled snotty voice.

"Mmhm," said Kisame, and Sakura felt it as a deep rumble, vibrating in his chest.

Sakura pulled away, avoiding Kisame's eyes because this was so embarrassing. _I need to kick his ass or something. I'm the freaking top medic in Konoha. I don't DO whimpering female._ Somewhere in the deepest recesses of her mind, Inner Sakura gave a dorky cheer. _Also he is very warm. Did I say this already? Very warm. Solid._

Sakura got into her bedroll without looking at Kisame. She heard him kick out the fire and clean up, then get into his own bedroll two feet away.

"Tomorrow we will be visiting a village." Kisame said in the dark, a few minutes later. "Need some supplies."

He waited for a reply, but heard only the soft breathing of one sleeping kunoichi.

VVVVVV

**A/N:** Think this is moving too slowly? Too bad. Actually no, here's a story for those of you who favor quick sex over all else:

Kisame woke up one morning and was like "wow, I really want to get hitched and have shark babies!" Then he met Sakura at a bar and asked her to marry him. Sakura was like "dude! Let's make out!" Then they had a 5,000 word sex session and Sakura got major cervical bruising due to Kisame's 300 foot phallus. The end.


	5. Chapter 5

_Day thirty-three. Early morning. _

The next day, Sakura awoke to find herself sleeping a little too close to Kisame. Face stuffed in his armpit definitely qualified as "a little too close," and Sakura determined to keep at least a five foot radius between her bedroll and Kisame's in future.

Sakura rolled away quickly and her movement woke Kisame up. He leapt into a defensive squat before Sakura could even blink and scanned the perimeter of their little glade, then eyed her warily.

"Paranoid much?"

"Quiet, Leaf. Something woke me up."

Sakura snorted. Reflex responses were great and all, but when you didn't even know what caused them… She didn't bother to inform him that she had been the trigger of his little wake-up call.

After a "really gross, I fucking hate watery gruel" breakfast and a brief fight about what kind of supplies they would be purchasing at the village (Sakura said if it was going to be more gruel she was going to barf) the two resumed their travel.

Their advance was far more cautious than the usual reckless rushing through trees. Kisame held Sakura on a tight leash with the chakra bond because they were nearing civilization, and people meant communication, and communication meant that Sakura could find out where they were. And could explain her current situation. And perhaps get a message to Konoha.

These possibilities crossed both their minds.

People passed underneath their branches on occasion, talking loudly and carrying baskets of various items to sell at the local market place. Sakura resisted the urge to shout for help because doing so would result in Kisame needing to silence them and Kisame silencing them meant that he would lop off their heads and Sakura really didn't want that on her conscience.

Finally, the small village came in sight and Kisame paused on an especially thick branch to survey the area.

Kisame was in a quandary. The best course of action would be to attach Sakura firmly, some distance away from the village, to wait until he came back. Attach her? To what? Sakura could fell any tree he might decide to chain her to. Use an area seal to keep her cooped up? No. His skills at non-combat jutsus were not stellar, and she was too intelligent, she'd break through.

Knock her out for a couple hours? Watching Sakura's eager face as she looked towards the village, Kisame reached for his sword. She turned to him with a wide smile. "You said we would stay there one night, right? Will we get a room at an inn? Will they have _showers_? Can you buy some dango? I promise I won't run away if you buy some dango. No really."

_Pfttt. Stupid Leaf. Too jolly._ Kisame swung his sword off of his back. Sakura looked at him, first expectantly after her questions, then more warily as his sword found its way to his hand. _Aw. I can't bash that face in. Eyelashes. Pretty. _

"Sorry, kunoichi," said Kisame, and Samehada's tip touched Sakura's collar bone.

A peculiar feeling settled over Sakura's heart, then spread rapidly to the rest of her body. Within a few milliseconds, it was at her fingertips and toes. A shiver. Emptiness.

Samehada shuddered in delight and the next thing Sakura knew, her chakra had just been completely removed from her body.

"It was either that or I knocked you out," said Kisame

Kisame didn't know why he felt the need to explain, he'd never done _that_ before. Perhaps it was Sakura's shocked expression, or the weakness of the fist that Sakura punched into his chest, barely bruising without her usual chakra-enhanced force.

"You… are… such… a dick. Have I told you this before? Because you are," sputtered Sakura angrily.

She looked at her hands. Tried a simple jutsu. Nothing. Kisame had seen it hundreds of times before, that shock, the powerlessness. On her little friend Naruto's face. On Sasuke's. On Itachi's, once, a long time ago. So why was this so different?

Bah.

"Your reserves will be replenished within a couple of hours. It's not permanent, you know."

Sakura glared, gave Kisame the finger, and turned away. Without chakra she felt weak. Pathetic. Helpless. She wouldn't even be able to heal a paper cut.

"Anyway, it might do you some good. Up your endurance. Freshly created chakra is better than chakra that's been reserved for days."

Why was he still trying to justify it? _I'm getting soft._ Kisame almost felt like fidgeting. Then he got tired of watching Sakura bore a hole into a tree trunk with her angry gaze.

"Well, I'm going in. Would you prefer it if I tie you to a tree, or do you want to come along, Leaf?"

Sakura wanted very much to be angry for the rest of the day, but the opportunities presented by a village jaunt were too good to pass up. A lack of chakra would not stop her from being able to read signs or perhaps write a note to a potential messenger. And there was even a chance that a Leaf nin might be in the Village in the Middle of Nowhere. A small, slim, tiny, minuscule chance… but still.

"I'll go with you," Sakura said sullenly.

"Good." _Why good? Get a grip._ "Ground rules, kunoichi: you do not communicate with anyone. That includes speaking and writing and body language. If I suspect that you are attempting to do so, I'll break your face and pull us out of there."

Sakura nodded.

"I deal with all merchants and shopkeepers." Another nod.

"Wait for my tugging on the bond before moving." Nod.

"Escape attempts will result in a great deal of pain."

Okay, so this was a bluff. Itachi had warned Kisame to keep the medic healthy, after all. But Kisame liked to threaten. He gave Sakura his best sharp-toothed leery-smarmy-whilst-malevolent grin. She gave him her best I'm-unimpressed-and-you-don't-scare-me-you-big-blue-bastard glare.

A fifteen second staring contest ensued.

He won.

Of course.

Sakura hated the blink reflex.

Then Kisame swished off his cloak, inversing it so that the giveaway Akatsuki coloring was replaced by an average-looking black fabric. He pulled on the hood, effectively hiding his appearance in the shadowy depths. Only his eyes were visible, pale and unnerving.

He sealed his telltale sword into a scroll and slipped it into his pocket. Then he reached over and plucked Sakura's Konoha forehead protector off. "Put this away. And can't you do something about your hair?"

_Ridiculous hair color. Pink. Really. What kind of ninja has pink hair?_

… _Or blue hair, for that matter._ Kisame told his thoughts to shut up. _And plus, yours defies gravity._

Sakura had nothing to use to camouflage her appearance. She'd never needed to. Kisame shrugged. This far east, he doubted whether anyone would have heard of the disappearance of a Konoha medic. In case of any suspicious action, he would simply pull out.

In the end, she simply removed her battered Jounin vest and shin guards, as well as the bandages wrapped around various limbs. Just your average pink-haired civilian girl out for a stroll. Followed closely by a mysterious tall cloaked man. Very good.

"In what sense is freshly created chakra 'better' than old chakra, anyway?" Sakura asked. Kisame grudgingly explained after she accused him of making it up. _Pesky Leaf._

They moved towards the low gates of the little village while shadows lengthened at the setting of the sun.

Sakura spent the next two hours trying to catch the eye of _somebody_ while Kisame bought various supplies.

Surely _someone_ would notice the strangeness of her companion and think something was up. Sakura tried everything from intense staring to coy looks to narrowed eyes which widened as if in surprise to all manners of eyebrow wiggles.

Sakura's efforts were ignored by most women in the small marketplace, who categorized her as a shameless young harlot. Men returned her looks with large smiles and occasional blushes, until she was moved on by Kisame.

One lanky teenager followed them from booth to booth and gave Sakura sickly smiles, which she returned encouragingly until Kisame loomed behind him and breathed down his neck.

Sakura saw the unconscious twitch of Kisame's arm as he refrained from smacking the boy away, and Sakura flinched because a blow from Kisame could result in anything from a mild concussion to death. The boy did not know this, but he scurried away all the same with a regretful glance at Sakura.

She saw him staring after them from behind a barrel of day-old bass.

"Friend of yours?" asked Kisame.

"…No?"

Glare. "Good."

VVVVVV

Evening fell. Kisame and Sakura passed through an alley with their packs refilled and dango-cravings satisfied, searching for a cheap inn. Sakura desperately needed to get her laundry done. Kisame needed to read the scroll given to him by a nervous-looking clerk. Akatsuki had eyes and ears everywhere, and mouths too, as the scroll proved.

They were about to turn around, having discovered that this was a dead end ("clearly gills here doesn't know how to read a map"), when eleven figures detached themselves from the shadows around them.

Sakura felt her heart skip a beat. Without her chakra she was, to all ninja intents and purposes, blind, unable to sense others around her. It was a hideous feeling.

Sakura heard Kisame give a little chuckle and realized that _he_ had known. But he hadn't bothered to tell her. The jerk.

A form approached them, and Sakura recognized the lanky boy from the market, hefting a sword he could barely lift.

He pointed it at them in an attempt to appear menacing and it shook slightly.

He had pimples.

Sakura was about to tell herself not to be an ungrateful cow (these people were, after all, potential rescuers) when she noticed that the shadowy bunch were not so much bent on rescuing her as they were interested in their full packs and… her body.

Catcalls echoed around the cul-de-sac. They asked Sakura if she was Kisame's prostitute. Or if he was hers. Nice hair, did she have pink panties on, too? Was her bra size a C or a D?

Sakura felt a bitter taste in her mouth, and wished vehemently that Kisame hadn't taken her chakra.

When they made a comment about her butt and how it was extremely grope-able, Kisame had to restrain Sakura with the bond before she hurtled herself at them, chakra-less. "If I had my chakra…" muttered Sakura, "I would castrate you."

_Wait…_

She turned to Kisame. "Do me a favor?"

Kisame's grin widened. "What?"

"Kick their asses."

The anger in Sakura's eyes was mirrored to a lesser degree in Kisame's because being called a man-whore is rather unpleasant. But by the time Kisame turned to face the group, it had been replaced by an inhuman desire for battle. The pale irises glittered. Pupils enlarged slightly. The smile never left his face.

Small civilian towns sometimes had their own form of ninja protection, casually trained men who acted as a militia or police force if necessary. Usually the town thugs. An attempt at mirroring the great ninja producing villages. This little gang was precisely that. Genin-level, chuunin-level maximum.

Kisame didn't bother to take out his sword. He flicked back his hood and leapt.

Eleven men against one Akatsuki.

You had to feel sorry for them.

Sakura had seen Kisame in action before. Against her during their frequent fights, where he was mocking and held back. Against Naruto, where he was quick and sudden and didn't intend to kill but merely incapacitate for the pleasure of it. Against Kakashi, where he was more cautious, a black blur amidst water jutsus.

But she had never seen him against opponents that didn't even register on his power radar.

Ruthless. Violent, terribly so. Gleeful.

And he was laughing.

Sakura had seen a lot of things during her time as a ninja. Horrible things during her time as a medic. Intestines, spleens, gray matter, exposed spines through abdomens, you name it, she had seen it, but the sight of this gore-fest was enough to make even her queasy.

Kisame was not so much gruesome as he was brutally efficient at ending lives. And the fact that he was enjoying it so much was rather disturbing. It looked like he was about to invite Sakura to join the party when he glanced at her before snapping the neck of some poor sap trying to club him.

Four down.

In a dazzling display of stupidity, five rushed at Kisame from all angles. Uppercut, jab, Serufu elbow, T-Strike, taichitach uppercut combo, KO counter, roundhouse… Sakura could barely trace Kisame's movements. Gai would have a run for his money.

Sakura winced when one of the elbow strikes caused a jaw to sag, unhinged on one side.

A large man with a full face mask on swung an axe. His windpipe was crushed before he completed the swing.

The boy from the market ended up twitching in a corner, impaled on his own sword.

And the silence in the alley was complete.

Sakura felt herself staring at nothing in particular with slightly wide eyes. _Carnage._

Kisame moved from body to body. A swift blow to the head ensured that the still-breathing ones would never be able to report the failed ambush, the tall figure in black and the pink-haired girl.

The fight had taken a total of about eight minutes.

Silence.

"Well," said Sakura in a small voice. "You…"

"Hm?" Kisame was checking out the masked one's face. "I what?" He turned.

"You… are good." _Lame, Sakura._

Kisame crushed the man's larynx as a precautionary measure.

_Add horrible monstrous psychotic killer to that._

Kisame raised his eyebrows in an well-what-did-you-think-I-was-kunoichi manner.

"Perceptive."

_Also add smarmy bastard._

Sakura felt very small on the way to the inn. Humbled. At maximum chakra, she would have wreaked damage too, but it would have taken her quite a bit longer than eight minutes. And she would probably have sustained at least _some_ injuries. And she wouldn't have… you know… killed them all.

During their month in the forest, she had somehow... managed to forget that Kisame was an S-class ninja? How had she done that? When had she worked up the gall to punch him and steal his stale crackers and flick fish eyes at him? And he let her. Crazy.

Sakura looked at Kisame sideways.

Kisame felt rather satisfied. He had wanted to smack that kid in the market place, but this was even better. Almost a workout. Stupid boy. Should have waited until he grew some chest hair. Shouldn't have looked at his kunoichi like that. Only _he_ was allowed to make comments about pink hair.

Wait, what? His? No. _Possessive streak._ "The kunoichi under his care". _Better. And anyone can talk about pink hair._

Kisame looked at Sakura sideways.

They caught each other's eyes and glanced away.

VVVVVV

**A/N:** It was hard to make the chakra-removal scene sound non-phallic. THE GIANT, PENIS-SHAPED OBJECT QUIVERED HAPPILY AFTER TOUCHING SAKURA NEAR HER BREASTS.

Let's call the unfortunate gangly boy "Hester" because I hate him. RIP Hester. (N.B. Though he is called "boy," I figure he's 19 years old, jobless, horny, and with a lame superiority streak due to a deli-owning father. I am happy that he died.)

Sakura has been a damsel in distress (of sorts) too frequently for my liking here. Don't worry, she'll have the opportunity to kick some serious butt soon enough. At maximum chakra and well rested up, she's quite the ninja. (grin)

(But not a Mary Sue. I promise. I hope.)

(Also my A/Ns are like twice as long as my chapters.)

(Hi.)


	6. Chapter 6

Kisame and Sakura found the tavern a few streets down. It was smoky, small, loud, cramped, and perfect for two who did not wish to be seen.

Or rather, one who did not wish to be seen, and one who desperately wanted to be noticed but not in _that_ way. Sakura clearly needed to work on her eye-language communication skills, apparently her every glance said "take me now, I'm yours."

Kisame found the landlord rooting around the bar. He asked for a room discreetly. In this setting, nobody looked twice at mysterious cloaked figures. The landlord demanded Kisame's money first, then handed him a large dirty key with "12" inscribed on it. He watched Sakura follow Kisame out of the bar area and gave Kisame a raunchy wink.

Sakura felt her stomach tighten at the implications.

The room was disappointing, to say the least. Door, twin bed, grubby window, grubbier bathroom. The floor might have been oak woodwork beneath the layer of ashes and filth. Sakura would almost have preferred to sleep under the stars again, save for the fact that the taps gushed hot water and the towels were clean.

Sakura proceeded to hog the bathroom for half an hour, cleaning herself and her clothing and re-arranging her pack and generally freshening things up. She wondered if fixing her nails would be too excessively girly. Then she decided that she didn't care, and whipped out a file. Clean and warm and full. She almost started humming.

Kisame sat cross-legged on the bed. Judging by the splashing sounds and the amount of clean-smelling steam seeping out from under the bathroom door, he had more than enough time to decode the Akatsuki scroll. He pressed his thumb to the seal, where it glowed with light blue chakra and the seal snapped open.

The message (once you got clear of the "aunt Tsumi's banana-nut muffins" filler) was concise and clear:

_Kyuubi and co. remain uninformed of your location. Medic has been declared missing, presumed dead._

_Due to lack of trails leading away from battle grounds _(Kisame took a moment to feel proud of his trace-covering skills)_, searches are limited to Konoha boundaries, particularly around fight area._

_Deadline and drop-off point have not changed._

_Report problems to village agent: 2nd level clerk at Hakayo Secondhand Books. Otherwise, proceed as planned._

Kisame rolled the message into a ball and swallowed it. Things were going remarkably well. The kunoichi wasn't even a difficult prisoner, really. Easy on the eyes. And nose. Not ears, though. Definitely not ears.

Sakura burst from the bathroom in a cloud of well-being and steam.

Kisame got up to do his own ablutions. "There had better be hot water left, Leaf."

"Or what, fins?"

Good moods can be dangerous things.

A kunai whipped out and pinned Sakura to the wall by the collar.

"Oh. Yes. Yes, there should be," said Sakura.

Kisame slammed the bathroom door shut.

"Jerk…"

Sakura nearly jumped out of her skin when Kisame swung the door back open to give her a large smile.

In the bathroom, Kisame found that Sakura's freshly-washed clothes were spread out all over the place to dry, to the extent that he had difficulties accessing the towel rack. He considered dumping them all into the toilet but decided that it probably wouldn't be worth the whining.

Kisame shoved some shorts irritably aside and a bra fell into the sink.

He rubbed his forehead. It was like she did it on purpose.

If there were panties in the shower, he was going out there right now to give her a piece of his mind.

There were none, fortunately. _Unfortunately._

Kisame didn't end up using the hot water much after all. Cold was better. Manly. Also cooled hot blood. And things.

When Kisame came back out, the room was dark. His chakra-enhanced awareness of Sakura's presence told him that she was there somewhere. Besides, he'd only put a twenty foot radius on the chakra bond, she couldn't get far. A rustle in the bed told him she was there. Good. Safe.

Kisame rummaged in his pack and rearranged his possessions, busying himself with all the little things one doesn't bother with while in the woods. Fixing broken zippers, realigning Samehada's scales, thinking about a little pink haired ninja…

He brought a palm to his face. _Really._

When he was just about ready to sleep, Kisame realized that there was only one bed. And it was occupied.

_Fuck._ He rubbed tired eyelids.

One of these days, the Leaf was going to get it.

Kisame flipped back the threadbare covers on the empty side of the bed. No sheets. _Crappy tavern._ Kisame would be having words with the landlord.

When Kisame sat, the entire bed frame squeaked and the mattress started to sag. He laid down quickly so that his weight was more evenly distributed. A coil snapped with a dull "thoink" somewhere under his back. _Ridiculous bed. Ridiculous situation._

Sakura was sleeping facing away from him, curled up. Kisame watched in horror as she slipped slightly towards him on the sloping mattress. He halted her movement with his hand on her back. _Now what._ He pulled his hand away. Sakura started sliding again. He put his hand back.

Kisame decided to try and sleep like this, with his arm outstretched and his elbow locked. If she woke up, well, it wasn't like he was touching her inappropriately. Mid-back. Not butt. Not hip.

…Gloriously curved hip. Thigh, firm under tight shorts. Knee. Calf muscle, as smooth to the touch as it had always looked. He could encircle her entire ankle with his hand. So fragile. His thumb made small circles in the dip beside her Achilles tendon.

_Err…_

Kisame withdrew his hand as if it was burned. _Not good. Must steady breathing._ He swallowed, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared at the ceiling.

Sakura's body nudged him gently until her sliding was halted by Kisame's body. He made a mental note to beat the stuffing out of the mattress at first light.

It was going to be a long night.

VVVVVV

A few hours later, Sakura woke up, brain abuzz with thoughts of Kisame for no apparent reason. Trying to get back to sleep, she allowed her mind to journey on these night-time musings.

Sakura was not a stupid woman. She knew that Kisame had a more than friendly interest in her from the first week of her captivity. She saw the clenched jaws, the frustrated looks. She noticed the grinding of his teeth when her flat stomach was exposed during pull-ups. The fisted hands when she brushed against him on the way to collect firewood. She felt the eyes tracing the line from her hips to her calves to her ankles when she walked ahead of him.

The occasional sexual undertones of his phrases ("Stop asking what I want from you. Ask what Akatsuki wants from you. Kunoichi.") were actually quite tame compared to his sometimes violent reactions to her. When their sparring matches ended in wrestling, how many times had she felt something hot and hard against her back? Her hand? Her thigh?

His accelerated breathing followed by his abrupt departures always gave her a thrill. A thrill of what? Power?... Something else?

His self-control was a source of amazement for her. Perhaps that was it. Curiosity. How far she could continue this elusive teasing before he snapped.

Sakura shook her head. She knew she was pushing it by getting into bed without them having had a fight about who slept where. And yet there Kisame was, sleeping beside her, not touching her, with his hands interlocked upon his chest.

Well, their knees were touching, but it was platonic.

And their thighs were touching, too.

And her hip was pressed against his waist.

… She was nestled right against him.

_Whatever happened to the five foot radius?_

Sakura's sleep-numbed brain finally grasped the fact that the mattress was tilted sideways. Amusing. She'd laugh at him tomorrow for breaking the bed.

Sakura turned to stare at Kisame's profile in the yellow glow of streetlights filtering through the grimy window. Strong chin, usually hidden by his cloak's collar. Fine lips drawn in a relaxed line. She leaned over to get a better look at his rarely-seen eyelids. They were dark, like the area around his eyes. Reminiscent of Gaara's, she realized.

This close to Kisame's face, Sakura was able to see that the dark gill-like lines were merely markings. There was no strange fold of skin to suggest that they were actual gills. Were they natural? Or tattoos, maybe?

A fingertip hovered a few millimeters over Kisame's face, and Sakura traced the markings.

VVVVVV

Kisame was awake the moment skin touched skin. He kept his breathing steady, kept his eyes closed.

Sakura's fingers were cool on his cheekbone as she followed the markings upwards. When she reached his eye, she touched around the lid. She traced the line of the fine eyebrow, then moved to his hairline. When was the last time someone had touched him like this? When?

Blood pounded in his ears. _Slow breathing. Slow._

Kisame felt her discover the thin, virtually invisible scar which crossed over one eye and ended across his mouth to his chin. Some kid had slashed him with a razor, back when he was a Mist genin. The bed shifted ever so slightly when she leaned over to take a better look.

When her fingers brushed his lips, Kisame could not keep his eyes closed any longer.

They looked at each other for a long time. Kisame could feel Sakura's pulse racing through her fingertips, hand still poised on his mouth, trembling slightly.

He parted his lips. Sakura felt the unsteady exhale of breath, warm on her palm.

His eyes were intense with... want? Wonder?

He gave her finger a tiny, tiny touch with his tongue. Her eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch.

And the bed chose that moment to collapse into a heap of squeaking parts.

VVVVVV

**A/N:** TEEHEE!

Kisame is a leg man. In case you haven't noticed. He particularly likes calves and ankles. Mmm.


	7. Chapter 7

_Day thirty-four. Still in the crappy tavern. No hope for room service. _

After their bed had crumpled, Kisame and Sakura had masked swirling emotions with annoyed cussing in the loud confusion and rising dust. The moment had been too intimate. Too sudden. Too personal. With too much potential for…

Kisame had dragged the mattress out of the debris and they had laid back down, facing away from each other and leaving a large gap between their bodies.

Now Sakura awoke, feeling uncommonly stiff. She stretched, cracking joints and rubbing sore muscles. _Feels like I've been hit by a truck. _

When she extended a hand in front of her, Sakura understood why: the green glow there informed her that her chakra was back and circulating through her parched system with a vengeance. It felt like a current of electricity was racing through her veins, crackling just beneath the skin. It felt _good_. She would never undervalue her chakra again.

Bringing her palms together, Sakura watched a small bright green ball form there, pure energy. She let it dissolve.

Energy. Strength. So beautiful.

Sakura felt like beating something up or hugging something tightly enough to break some ribs. A sidelong glance at Kisame followed. He was watching her mannerisms warily with two hands behind his head and the blanket tangled between his legs.

"Well that explains why I was so cold. Blanket hog," said Sakura. _Good. Yesterday night never happened._

"You kicked it off in the first place."

"It was itchy."

A muffled voice from the room beside theirs told them to "shut the fuck up", because it was apparently "six fucking o'clock" in the "fucking morning". Sakura started at the sound, then threw her pillow in that direction with a snap of her wrist. It made a surprisingly large smacking sound while bursting into moldy feathery fluff. Strength. Such a wonderful feeling.

A sneeze. "…Nice going."

Kisame got up, heading for the bathroom. "We're out of here. The remains of our… meeting with your little friends from the market will not have gone unnoticed long."

Sakura sneezed in assent and gathered her belongings.

VVVVVV

They passed the landlord on the way out of the tavern. He was sharpening knives by the counter and he smiled greasily at them.

"How was your night?" he asked. From the tone in his voice, he might as well have asked, "how was your crazed eight hour sex session?" which made Sakura glare very hard.

Kisame ignored the question and informed the landlord of the broken bed, which made Sakura bring her hand to her forehead because he was so tactless.

The landlord gave Kisame a knowing chuckle, then glanced at Sakura. "That good eh? How much do you want for her?"

Sakura's normally soft green eyes hardened. _What. The. Fuck._ She _really_ didn't like this town. The women must all be hags or something. Sakura's fist was clenched behind her back and her newly-returned chakra pumped through her arm muscles.

"She's not for sale." Kisame said as he tried to pass the landlord-slash-brothel-operator the room key.

"Come now, my friend," insisted the man. "Surely we can come to an agreement?"

"No," said Kisame. "She's definitely not for sale."

"My assets are considerable. I have taken a shine to her. A broken bed? She's clearly plea-"

Sakura's leap over the counter wasn't visible to the untrained eye, nor were the three consecutive uppercuts that she smashed into the man's unshaven chin. She only stopped when she heard the cervical vertebrae snap.

When she dragged the body under the counter, Kisame noticed that the unfortunate man's lower jaw had been jammed forcefully into his cranium, leaving his neck strangely elongated. He heard the grind of bone as the newly deformed head lolled grotesquely to one side and he looked at the fuming Sakura with new respect.

Kisame put the key on the counter, and the pair left through the front gates rather quickly.

VVVVVV

**A/N:** Would canon Sakura have killed that tavern owner? I don't know. He treats her like an object/prostitute, she's had a rough night, and she's having some sort of chakra high so her emotional control is rather lacking. Heh. (Or maybe I just wanted to kill him. You will never know.)


	8. Chapter 8

Sakura was happy to be back in the forest. It was clean and wide and perfect for expending some of her newfound vigor.

She had to hand it to Kisame: her chakra felt fresh, sparkling and new. Usually it was only a steady hum in her veins, but now she was aware of it like a live current, thrumming in her system, prickling at her extremities.

They paused after having traveled for an hour to put on their more traditional attire. Cloak reversed, Kisame was once again the threatening Akatsuki. Sakura tied her forehead protector on with a look of defiance. Kisame tied on his own and mimicked her impudent expression.

Sakura threw him a kick for being such a prat, and Kisame held her foot while he withdrew Samehada's storage scroll from his pocket.

By the time Sakura had hop-skipped close enough to attack his restraining hand, the legendary sword was out and its scale-like growths quivering two inches from her face.

"Cheater." Sakura poked at Samehada with a well-manicured nail and it hissed at her.

Sakura glanced at Kisame, aware and appreciative of the fact that he hadn't let it take her chakra again. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't. He was oddly predictable.

Then Kisame severed the branch they were standing on with one swoop. _Okay, not predictable._

Sakura landed easily on another limb and began to move on. Spending time with him kept him on her toes, always ready to react in ways her training had never prepared her for.

The remainder of the day passed in a blaze of high-speed chases, adrenalin, panting and bruises.

They fell back easily into the old routine. By dusk, Kisame had found a camping spot. He was always very particular, refusing this clearing and that glade and that area for no discernable reason.

The land was getting damper and more bog-like as they progressed, so tonight Kisame and Sakura were set on a high table-like rock getting viciously attacked by mosquitoes.

Sakura felt like she would be going insane within a few hours amidst the insufferable buzzing.

"Can't we just keep traveling? I'm getting eaten alive."

"You'll live."

"You suck at finding camping spots."

"Quiet, kunoichi."

Kisame was trying to make a small, smoky fire to help with the bugs, but wasn't able to form a proper flame with the damp wood.

Sakura leaned over and slapped him across the cheek.

"You had a mosquito."

When he didn't react, Sakura swatted him again. "And another."

"Oh, and one there too," said Sakura with another swat.

Irritated, Kisame dropped the idea of a fire. The Leaf was being far too bold for his current mood.

"See? We should move on." Sakura reached for another slap.

Her withdrawal was not quick enough, Kisame grabbed her forearm and unfolded her hand. One finger at a time. Slowly.

"No mosquito here."

"I missed."

"Ah."

Kisame pressed his other hand to Sakura bicep, then dragged his palm onto her knee. Sakura looked there and saw the small black smudge of what had been a bug. "Thanks," she huffed detachedly.

"No problem."

Kisame was still holding her arm. Sakura gave a tug, but his attention was focused on their hands, and he did not let go. He placed their palms together, a strange look in his unblinking eyes. The tips of Sakura's nails could barely brush the top of his fingers. She felt the calluses of his skin, rough where the handle of the Samehada was always gripped. Her skin looked too pink compared to the grey-blue of his.

This little ritual felt odd. Old. Primitive. Some sort of weird, connection-forging act which might have taken place centuries ago. Her hand looked too modern, too polished, too female. Dainty. Refined. Fragile, embarrassingly so.

Pulling away, Sakura pretended to busy herself with Kisame's failed fire. "What was that about? Hippie."

Sakura's flustered, haphazard match-striking ended up lighting a largeish flame which spread hungrily.

"Just looking."

"Mm."

"Kunoichi."

"What?"

"You're afraid of me."

She raised her eyes, glittering with sass. "No."

"It's a good thing that you are."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Mm."

"You have an unbelievably big ego," Sakura said dismissively.

"And you have a pathetic macho façade."

"What? It's not a façade. I'm not afraid of you."

"Then why you jump when I do this?" said Kisame, and he stood up suddenly.

Sakura started, she was too tense to do otherwise. _Goddamn reflexes._ Angered at the laugh in Kisame's eyes, Sakura set her jaw.

"Bite me."

Hot breath on her neck.

Sakura stood, frozen with her head tilted slightly away from where she could feel Kisame's breath on her neck.

"What, kunoichi?" Low half-whisper.

Kisame's presence behind her made Sakura want to start forward, but if she moved, she would be admitting defeat.

Directly in front of her, the fire blazed.

She felt Kisame's mouth on the thin skin at the back of her neck. A slow bite, teeth dragging with agonizing languor. A taste.

"…It's an expression," Sakura said, and her voice wavered in spite of herself. She was ready to run.

A chuckle. Kisame's breath tickled her and the little hairs on her neck stood on end from nerves and cold and…?

Sakura could see his profile in the periphery of her vision, leaning over her shoulder. _Monstrous. Barbaric. Akatsuki. Enemy._

_Human._

Kisame could feel Sakura's hair against his skin. Inhale her scent. He moved his face against her neck, barely touching. Wonderfully alluring. Her taste was lovely. Female. Lips moved, a hair's breadth away from her skin, ghosting from under her ear to her shoulder.

His pulse raced, matching the one he could see beating under the skin of her throat. He kept his hands locked behind his back. His body was aching for more. Something more forceful, more intense, violent and hot_. For too long I have-_

_No._

Kisame's breathing slowed. He let his eyes drift shut, reveling in her proximity. Her smell. The sound of soft, rapid breathing. The way she turned her head, just a fraction, to look at him, her eyes dark with fear.

He dropped a hand to her waist.

Sakura was about to bolt when she heard him sigh.

She stayed.

Cheek to cheek, they stared into the fire.

VVVVVV

**A/N:** Kisame is starting to lose his grip. Uh-oh.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Surprise!

Here's some secret advice: you might want to go back and re-read this fic, first to refresh your memory and secondly because I've finally completed most of my long-anticipated revisions and I now like _UC_ much more (except for its title, but what can you do). Plot-wise, minor points have been changed and quality-wise the early chapters have been significantly improved so that they don't scream "newbie!" quite so loudly any more. Tell me what you think.

Or you could just read from here and ignore the hours of effort I put into fixing up the rest of this… you jerk! (Just kidding – as long as you enjoy.)

VVVVVV

The brooding oppressiveness of the air finally gave way to a sudden downpour of rain, something which gave Sakura a much needed after excuse to leap the hell away from Kisame because this whole tasting thing was weirding her out something dreadful.

"Wow," said Sakura with a glance upwards at the near-black sky in an effort to distract herself and Kisame. "That's coming down hard."

Kisame stood a few feet off and rubbed his chin casually like he _so_ hadn't been up to creepy terrible things and thinking creepy terrible thoughts about Sakura and Sakura's taste and Sakura's smell and Sakura's throat.

"Aw," said Kisame as the heavy rain put out the fire that had taken so much effort to start. "Looks like we won't be able to hold hands and sing kumbaya together after all."

"That's really too bad," said Sakura, who thought there were far more pressing concerns to attend to at the moment, such as the fact that she was about to drown.

"Hey," Sakura said a little more loudly while a heavier curtain of rain whipped across the little clearing, soaking her to the underwear in the process. "Shouldn't we move on?"

"Move on? Naw – these storms only last a couple minutes. And there's no lightning. No sweat," said Kisame as he watched a mini flash-flood swirl around his ankles and carry away the remains of the fire.

Famous last words. Just as Kisame had completed this confident assertion, a deep peal of thunder echoed above and a painfully bright glare of lightning illuminated the forest all around them.

"Um," said Sakura, who was about to question and then severely insult Kisame's weather-predicting ability, but when she re-opened her mouth she was interrupted by an earsplitting crack of thunder that shook the very ground they were standing on.

"Well," said Kisame when the booming thunder had echoed and faded away, but his next suggestion was lost to the sight and sound of lightning hitting a great sycamore on the edge of the glade. He and Sakura watched the tree tip and fall crashing through the undergrowth and they felt suddenly very vulnerable.

Sakura pushed sopping-wet hair out of her eyes and declared loudly that on second thought maybe it was better to stay right here in the open, and Kisame pushed sopping-wet hair out of his eyes and agreed, and then they were both temporarily blinded by an explosive burst of light when a second strike of lightning hit another of the tall trees flanking the clearing.

"Oi," yelled Kisame as his pack began to float away in a torrent of water, and when he splashed to fetch it he was stricken with a thought which he shared with Sakura: "Come to think of it… I have a tent in here."

"Wonderful," shouted Sakura, who could barely see Kisame and much less help assemble a tent in the driving rain. "That way we can get fried inside of a tent instead of outside, that's so much better! Thank the hokages!"

"Don't get bitchy, kunoichi," Kisame shouted back, "this one's got rubber tarp."

This made Sakura shut up immediately, which Kisame was grateful for because unfolding the canvas and the retractable poles and then assembling them was proving to be a very concentration-intensive task, especially since he could barely hold the slick tarp and the slippery poles at the same time when the downpour renewed itself with double the force.

Eventually, with the help of Sakura driving the poles into the ground and giving the tarp a vigorous smack every time it filled itself with water, Kisame managed to get the tent up.

"Done," said Kisame, and he stood back to admire his handiwork.

Sakura, who had been holding her breath the whole time because at the rate the rain was coming down she was going to be drowned in five minutes, took a good look at the tent.

It was sturdily and neatly set up, true, and its thick waterproof tarp was stretched taut against the torrential rain and it offered some hope of dryness and warmth, but…

"It looks kind of small," Sakura remarked, and she rubbed rain water out of her eyes just to make sure that it was actually three feet high and seven feet long at most.

"Well yeah," said Kisame, "it's a one-man tent."

Sakura resisted the urge to scream in frustration because what the hell, Kisame had only just finished being creepy and the last thing she wanted was to be in close proximity with him for any length of time.

"I am _so_ not getting in there with you," Sakura declared with her hands on her hips and her hair plastered wetly to her head.

Then another peal of thunder roared around them and the deluge reached the approximate intensity of that of a biblical flood.

"Haw," said Kisame. "Suit yourself, sweetheart."

With that, Kisame sealed up Samehada in its storage scroll, slid his considerable self into the tent and, with a last tug at the chakra bond to remind Sakura that she wasn't going anywhere, he gave her a toothy grin and zipped up the tent.

Once inside, Kisame stretched out, put his hands behind his head, and began to count down under his breath.

"Three," said Kisame, and outside the downpour redoubled and Sakura looked desperately around for Noah's ark.

"Two," said Kisame, and outside a bolt of lightning incinerated a young sapling mere feet away from Sakura.

"One," said Kisame, and outside Sakura watched a half-dead squirrel float by her.

"Zero," said Kisame, and, wonder of wonders, the tent was unzipped and a very pissed, very soaked Sakura was sliding in accompanied by generous sprays of rainwater and the half-dead squirrel.

Kisame watched Sakura crawl in and he resisted the urge to say "_sweeeet_" like a teenaged pothead, he had a villain image to maintain after all.

He settled instead for a penetrating look at Sakura's chest because her soaked shirt was sticking very interestingly to her breasts.

"Yo," said Sakura, "eyes up here."

Kisame averted his eyes with some effort and muttered about kunoichi and how difficult and demanding they were.

"Shove over," Sakura said as she tried to make some space next to Kisame with many violent wiggles in the ridiculously tight space. "And don't get any funny ideas."

"I'm not," said Kisame defensively, and it was true because the ideas he was getting weren't funny, they were really sexy.

As it turned out, "space next to Kisame" was a contradiction in terms when it came to one-man tents, and so Sakura found herself squashed between rubber tarp on one side and Kisame on the other.

Sakura decided that if this was absolutely necessary – and it was, as another thunderclap resounding painfully loudly outside reminded her – then at least she was going lie on her side to be facing Kisame because her recent experience told her that he tended to think disturbing perverted thoughts about the back of her neck.

Which meant that, as it happened, Kisame started thinking disturbing perverted thoughts about Sakura's chest instead, because he could feel it pressed against his and then his ideas weren't just sexy, they were pretty dirty.

"So this is cozy," said Kisame.

"So I hate you," said Sakura with a glare, and then she placed a sopping wet rodent in the very squished space between her chest and Kisame's.

"What the hell is that?" asked Kisame.

"This?" said Sakura, holding up the limp furry thing. "It's a squirrel. I caught it just before coming in, it was being carried away… I think it's still alive."

Kisame raised an eyebrow because the tiny dripping fur-ball was totally ruining the sexy vibe here. "I see."

Then Sakura began some preliminary resuscitation efforts on the squirrel precisely because it offered a distraction from the sexy vibe and she was going to take full advantage of that.

Kisame watched Sakura gently revive the thing and he decided that if Sakura started to give the squirrel fucking CPR, he was going to eat it and then demand some fucking CPR for himself.

Sakura rubbed the squirrel and it seemed to be enjoying that and then she shoved it partially down her shirt, "for warmth," she said, and then Kisame really wanted to kill it and also be a squirrel himself.

Now the squirrel was looking at Kisame snidely from Sakura's cleavage and Kisame smiled widely at it to remind it who had the sharper teeth around here, which made the squirrel nestle more deeply between Sakura's breasts with a gleeful squeak, which infuriated Kisame beyond belief because it was such a smarmy son of a bitch.

"What should I call it?" said Sakura, petting the squirrel.

"I'd call it," said Kisame, "crunchy."

"Hell no!" said Sakura quite scandalized, "I'm thinking Pooky."

"That's the dumbest name I ever heard," said Kisame. "How about tasty?"

"Kisame!" said Sakura in exasperation, "if you eat it, I'll kill you."

"I would love to see you try," said Kisame, who would totally dig a wrestling match right now especially since the space was so delightfully limited.

"Just hush and don't eat him – he's adorable," said Sakura as she stroked its little head. "You're just jealous."

"You're fucking right I am," said Kisame.

Silence ensued at that point because Kisame had essentially declared that he wanted to be stuffed into Sakura's shirt and stroked on the head and that's always kind of awkward.

Outside, the tempest raged on without abating and the rain kept up a constant drumming on the thick tarp of the tent. Occasional bursts of lightning made the silhouettes of the trees outside stretch across the inside of the rubber tarp and Sakura paused for a brief moment of thankful silence in gratitude to hydrocarbon polymers and their insulatory properties.

Then Sakura discovered, thanks to a sudden cold trickle down her back, that there was a hole in the tent.

"I think I found a leak," said Sakura.

Fun ensued, for Kisame at least, when Sakura began to press herself more closely to him in an effort to avoid the cold water, until she asked him what exactly he was waiting for to plug it up since she had moved out of the way.

Kisame said "oh yeah," and then he blocked the hole with a handy piece of cloth and Sakura moved back to her former position and Kisame wished that there would be more leaks.

Then Sakura said suddenly, "what's the squirrel doing? Come and see!"

At this invitation to stare at Sakura's chest Kisame said "try and keep me away, as they say," and he leaned over to look.

"Is this squirrel," said Sakura slowly, "humping my boob?"

"I'd say… yes," said Kisame, after having observed the squirrel closely and the top edge of Sakura's bra much more closely, and he gave the squirrel credit for being such a raunchy little thing and he gave Sakura credit for choosing something lacy.

"Ugh!" said Sakura, "males! All the same!" and then she flung the squirrel quite heartlessly into a corner of the tent near her feet and told it that if it didn't stay put, she would smash it to a bloody squirrelly pulp.

The squirrel squeaked a little sadly and Kisame said "I hear you, bro" with some degree of compassion (and some degree of hippie) because Sakura totally treated him with the same level of disrespect.

Then, since the squirrel was out of the picture, Kisame and Sakura had nothing else to do except stare at each other and notice how close they were and that they were both wet and in a tiny tent and how it was just such a generally steamy situation and not only because of the warm bodies and the wet clothes.

Then Sakura wanted a little less staring and a little more conversation so she started rambling in a general way about how rain was a pain in the ass, and Kisame wanted a little less conversation and a little more action so he started moving imperceptibly closer to Sakura, and then everyone burst into a spontaneous rendition of that one Elvis song.

Well, that's not exactly what happened. What happened was that Sakura noticed that Kisame was moving closer because, really, as soon as he moved a millimeter she was going to be freakin' aware of it in these close quarters, and she started to pull away just as slowly as Kisame was advancing, which made Kisame notice that she had noticed and then he stopped. For two seconds.

And then Kisame grinned widely because he loved the panicky look that was beginning to make its way into Sakura's eyes and he brought one hand up and made to wipe a drip of rain water from Sakura's collarbone, and Sakura reacted like the ninja she was and grabbed him by the wrist very tightly.

"What?" said Kisame, "I was just going to scratch my nose."

"Oh? I didn't know your nose was in the vicinity of my chest," said Sakura, "carry on," and she let go of Kisame's wrist with deep suspicion.

And there was no way Kisame was going to miss that kind of opportunity, especially when Sakura made it so easy, so he proceeded to stuff his face into Sakura's chest and said "it is now," and he discovered, like many men before him, that a girl's cleavage was one of the best places in the world to be and he would have liked to remain there for the rest of his life.

And of course Sakura did not take kindly to such an invasion of what little personal space she had available and she shoved Kisame away quite violently with shrieks about his utterly perverse nature.

"Jeez," said Sakura when Kisame had retreated to an acceptable distance (that is, four inches away, due to the tent's size), "what is it with the fucking boobs today?"

Kisame said, "it's your fault for wearing lace," which made Sakura's eyes widen because how the hell had he known that anyway?

"You are such a creep," said Sakura, and she pulled up her shirt very high so as to prevent more bra sightings.

"I'm not a creep," said Kisame, who was now watching Sakura's stomach because she had exposed it so conveniently. "I'm a horrible monstrous psychotic killer, remember?"

"True," said Sakura, pulling her shirt back down very quickly, "but those terms aren't mutually exclusive."

Once they had settled on Kisame's modified title, creepy horrible monstrous psychotic killer, they lay in silence and Sakura thought about how her life sucked hard right now and Kisame thought about how much he wanted to lick Sakura's stomach really slowly.

"So in terms of the whole kidnap thing," said Sakura, "…am I going to be dead by the end of this?"

"Hm," said Kisame after a few moments of deliberation, "that's a secret."

"A secret."

"Yeah. A secret."

"Okay…" said Sakura, who did not find this very satisfying. "And are you going to share it?"

"Come closer and I'll tell you."

"… I don't think I could get any closer even if I wanted to," said Sakura, and as if to make her point, her nose brushed against Kisame's chin as she spoke. "As you can see."

"True," said Kisame, though he could think of ways they could be closer, such as if they were both naked. "Then I guess I'll tell you."

Sakura looked up at Kisame expectantly, but when he tried to put a hand behind her head she backed right into the tarp. "What are you doing?"

"Telling you the fucking secret," said Kisame, "come here."

Sakura narrowed her eyes but she let Kisame slide his hand behind her neck and pull her towards him.

She waited for approximately three milliseconds when Kisame let his mouth hover over her ear, and then she prompted him with a very loud "well?" lest he start getting all touchy-tasty again.

"Okay, okay, the secret is…" whispered Kisame into Sakura's ear, and then, before he could start, Sakura erupted into screaming giggles and squirmed around because apparently that was a ticklish place.

"I haven't even told you," said Kisame, pulling Sakura back towards him, "get back here."

And then they tried again except Sakura started her shrieking giggles the second Kisame inhaled near her ear.

And then they tried again and Sakura collapsed into the giggling as soon as Kisame opened his mouth.

"Well what the fuck!" said Kisame.

"Sorry," gasped Sakura, "I'm ticklish, it's the goddamn whispering and then I'm like expecting it and it makes me –"

Then Sakura realized something and she stopped laughing and she said "wait, why the hell are you even whispering anyway? Who's going to hear?"

"That thing," said Kisame, pointing to the squirrel curled up at Sakura's feet. "Duh."

"Oh," said Sakura with an eye-roll, "dumb question."

"Yeah," said Kisame. "Stupid. Let's try again."

This time Sakura did her utmost to be serious and not start screaming with laughter and Kisame was able to open his mouth and inhale without triggering a giggle, and he took that as a good sign, and then he sort of breathed on Sakura's ear while he tried to remember what the hell they had been talking about in the first place and what exactly the secret was.

"…I have no fucking idea," whispered Kisame.

"What?" shouted Sakura, "what a rip-off!" and she tried to knee Kisame in the stomach for having such a lame secret answer.

Kisame caught her knee and he drew it very slowly and sexily over his thigh. "Well I might have some idea," he said. "What are you willing to do to know?"

"Nothing involving me and you doing anything remotely sexual. So let go of my leg, you knob," said Sakura, punctuating her request with several jerks.

"Damn," said Kisame. "What the hell is a guy supposed to do."

"Maybe, like, not be a big blue bastard," Sakura suggested.

"Too hard," said Kisame, and he looked at Sakura and said, "you try not being a pathetic pink pipsqueak and tell me how it goes."

"Pathetic?_ Pipsqueak?_" said Sakura. "You big – blue –"

Sakura stuttered for a moment trying to find an insult that wasn't a repeat. "Buttface!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

"Hey now," said Kisame, and he grabbed Sakura firmly by the chin. "Don't make me smash your pipsqueak jaw."

"Not that you would," said Sakura, and she didn't try to break his grip because she knew it.

"Yeah," said Kisame after having glared unblinkingly at her for a while. "I know."

And then he let her go and they lay together and listened to the rain and they felt kind of weird.

VVVVVV

**A/N #2:** I'd forgotten how much fun these two are... the next chap is funnier than this one and also sexier, I think. It'll be up when I decide that it doesn't suck.

In the meanwhile, this advertisement space is for sale… offers?

…SOLD to the crack pairing freak with the hair – that is, myself: go read _Via Media_, it's my new Neji x Temari and it'll knock your socks off with a high dose of Crack Awesome.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N** Hi, don't be mad at me for not updating for so long please, I'm a busy girl. Also: please don't ask me about _Marrow_; my fics are updated when they are updated. Sucks but there you go! Also: you can thank Firefly at FFnet for this update -- I read some of her crack last week and was reminded of why I love crack. OMG. I want to write a Hidan/Temari thing sometime.

So, _Uneasy Coexistence _continues. This was last updated in March 2008. I'm so bad. I bet most of you will have forgotten this is even on your alerts list! Ha!

VVVVVV

_Day thirty-five. Damp tent. Middle of nowhere._

When Sakura woke up the next morning, she floated in a feel-good daze of warmth and safety.

Until she noticed that the source of that warm and safe feeling was Kisame, who was wrapped around her from behind, and then all the warm and safe feelings fled with incredible rapidity.

Then Sakura realized that she had probably been spooning in a tent with an S-class criminal all night long and that was really unacceptable and she wondered whether she should start smacking Kisame or just scream very loudly about how her life sucked.

Kisame woke up while Sakura was trying to determine which course of action was the better one, and the instant he woke up he wanted to go back to sleep to finish his dream, which had involved a pink-haired ninja chick doing a very naughty pole dance with the Samehada wearing nothing but his Akatsuki cloak.

Unbuttoned.

Very hot.

Unfortunately for Kisame, Sakura decided at that particular point to both smack him and start screaming very loudly, which made it very difficult for him to try to fall asleep again.

"What the hell!" said Kisame in the confusion of Sakura's punches and shouts -- and a very alarmed squirrel scrambling around in a panic.

Then Kisame started to block Sakura's hits and his doing so meant that the entire tent was now in movement and, inevitably, when Kisame started trying to subdue Sakura in a grappling hold and he sat up to do this, the tent poles were yanked forcefully out of the ground and then Kisame and Sakura and the squirrel were floundering in a damp rubbery cocoon and feeling very pissed off with each other.

A loud confusion was the result, and it lasted for several minutes as Kisame tried to locate the exit so as to get the hell out and Sakura tried to locate Kisame's head so as to knock it off for unsolicited spooning and the squirrel generally made a nuisance of itself and lost control of its bladder.

Suddenly, a cheerful whistling made them all halt in their movements – Kisame with an arm outside of the tent, Sakura with her fist drawn and aimed at his head and the squirrel sitting in a puddle of pee.

Kisame determined that the whistling was most definitely from a human and not a bird because no birds he knew could whistle to Stevie Wonder. He also determined that the whistling person was going to die at his hand in approximately one minute because who can bear that kind of mush.

Then Sakura lost patience with Kisame and the squirrel and the tent and the world generally, and so in a very She-Hulk moment she forcibly ripped the tarp apart and clambered out, closely followed by her tent-mates.

"That thing was expensive," Kisame said, but before he could get on Sakura's ass for reimbursement of his damaged property, the source of the whistling appeared at the edge of the clearing in the form of an old peddler truckling his cart in their direction.

Sakura brightened immediately at the sight, because perhaps she would be able to make this old man understand her predicament and get help, assuming that Kisame didn't kill him on sight because he was still whistling "My Cherie Amour."

The peddler halted and took stock of the strange sight before him: two very dishevelled ninja, one with pink hair and the other with blue hair and, well, blue everything, standing amidst the ruins of a tent which had been pitched in what appeared to be a swamp and accompanied, inexplicably, by a confused-looking rodent, which presently fled towards the forest at high speed squeaking about stress-induced incontinence.

The peddler stopped whistling at that point, which was probably the smartest thing he ever did in his life, because another refrain of "pretty little one that I adore" would have had fatal consequences. In any case, since he had actually seen weirder things than the odd tableau of Kisame and Sakura and their collapsed tent, he began to display his wares in the hopes of making a quick sale.

Sakura engaged in rapid straightening out of her clothes and her hair so that she stopped looking like an escaped lunatic and, with a sideways look at Kisame, she walked towards the peddler, taking care to not step in the ankle-deep mud that was the result of the storm the night before.

Sakura made some civil remark to the peddler about the weather so as to alleviate Kisame's suspicions; however, this did not work very well because Kisame was still suspicious, as indicated by the fact that he was looming immediately behind her and generally conveying his intention of slaying the old man.

"What's your name?" Sakura asked the peddler cordially when the weather remarks petered out due to Kisame's imposing presence.

The old man was silent for a while because the author couldn't come up with a suitably Japanese-sounding name, and then he said with an apologetic toothless grin, "Walter."

"…That's a nice name," said Sakura, who was wondering how the hell she was supposed to tell him anything with Kisame being all alert and scary behind her.

Then, to Sakura's surprise, the old man turned to Kisame and beckoned him closer with many extravagant gestures which he evidently intended to be quite secretive and discreet.

Kisame took him for an imbecile but nevertheless approached him and wondered whether he should just kill him now and steal his money to pay for a new tent, or wait until later to do that.

"I have a message for you," the old man said in a conspirational whisper to Kisame, out of earshot of Sakura.

"Yes…?" said Kisame, recoiling because Walter had foul breath.

"A man told me that if I found a freak blue shark hybrid while wandering the forest, I was to tell him: 'keep moving, keep a low profile, and restrain your manly urges or you'll make me lose the bet.'"

"…Who said this, exactly?" asked Kisame, though he could already guess who.

"It was…" the peddler narrowed his eyes and rubbed his balding head in an effort to recollect, and he mumbled something about a hermaphroditic monk with a scythe.

"Oh," said Kisame, "Hidan."

"That's it!" exclaimed the peddler, and then he looked expectantly in the direction of Kisame's pockets for some sort of reward for having delivered the message so aptly.

Kisame thought that leaving the peddler alive ought to have been reward enough, but then again he had just qualified Hidan as a hermaphroditic monk with a scythe so he deserved payment for that. To leave Sakura perfectly mystified, however, Kisame decided to snatch a bag of fortune cookies from the peddler's cart and simply overpay the man for those so that Sakura would have no idea as to the general import of the transaction.

Meanwhile, Sakura was watching Kisame's back and trying to catch snippets of the whispered conversation, but all she heard was "hermaphroditic" and that didn't help her at all. However, Kisame's satisfied look and the peddler's even more satisfied look told her that they were somehow acting in collaboration and so the old man was not going to be of any use for helping her out, which sucked.

"Here," said Kisame, and he tossed the fortune cookies to Sakura, "and pick up your crap. We're moving on."

Sakura looked at the bag of fortune cookies and was thoroughly puzzled by the incongruity of the situation, but she nevertheless returned to what had been the tent and picked through it to find her gear, and Kisame followed suit, and then they were off again a-whizzin' through treetops for no reason that Sakura could discern, which was essentially business as usual.

When they paused for a lunch break a few hours later, Sakura decided to eat some of the fortune cookies for desert because the main meal had been gruel again, which was extremely depressing business.

Sakura accordingly got up to get the bag of fortune cookies and she brushed by Kisame in doing so, and then Kisame inhaled, and when he did he held his position in a state of frozen realization because he had just understood why he had been more intent on Sakura than usual as of late, and the reason was very simple: pheromones.

"Are you aware," said Kisame by way of conversation, "that you're ovulating right now?"

"…No, I didn't know that," said Sakura, looking towards Kisame with a shocked expression. "And you would know that how?"

"Smell," said Kisame, and he did not add that the smell screamed 'ravish me, I'm in season!' though he would have liked to.

"Well that's nice and civilized," said Sakura, and she perched herself on a large boulder, crossed her legs rather more tightly than she would normally have and proceeded with obtaining her desert. She ripped open the bag of fortune cookies, broke a cookie and munched on it and then unrolled the little fortune paper, but before she could read it, Kisame had wandered over and grabbed a cookie and, to Sakura's horror, eaten it without taking out the fortune, which was utterly outrageous.

"Hey!" said Sakura, "you're supposed to read the fortune!"

At this point Kisame frowned and rolled his tongue over his back teeth and said, "so that's what that was," and he dislodged the soggy bit of paper from his molars.

Sakura wrinkled her nose when he unfolded the tiny soggy fortune and she muttered about how disgusting he was, and Kisame reminded her that he had a ready-made spitball in his hands right now so she should shut the hell up, goddamn pheromone-emitting kunoichi.

"It says… what the hell kind of language is this written in?"

"You're holding it upside down."

"Oh."

"Dumbass."

"Your life is like a box of chocolates," read Kisame.

"Aw," said Sakura, "that's a nice one."

"A nice one? I've never understood this analogy."

"It's pretty obvious," said Sakura, "in a box of chocolates, all the chocolates have different things inside them, but they're all good, like almond paste and caramel and coconut…"

Kisame put the paper back in his mouth and swallowed it, and before Sakura could complain he said a little sadly: "I have only ever received one box of chocolates in my life."

"And…?"

"They were stuffed with rat poison."

"Oh," said Sakura, "I wonder why," and she stuffed her fist in her mouth so as to not laugh shrilly at this revelation.

Then Sakura remembered that she hadn't read her own fortune yet, and so she unfurled the little paper, fully expecting "your life is a highway" or some other comfortable platitude. You can imagine her dismay, then, when she read:

"Your life is like a toilet bowl."

Kisame was not nearly as polite as Sakura and he made no effort to restrain the booming laugh which erupted at Sakura's fortune.

"That's a good one," he told Sakura when she looked positively affronted, "hey, sometimes you get puked on instead of –"

"Whatever!" said Sakura, and she ripped up the paper vindictively and threw the pieces at Kisame. "I'm having another."

Sakura then crumbled another fortune cookie away and unrolled the little paper. Instead of a fortune, this one took the form of an interesting factoid to be shared at the dinner table at your local Chinese diner:

"Did you know: the sex organs of male sharks are called 'claspers.'"

Sakura took a moment to absorb this information, and then she looked up slowly at Kisame.

"What the hell," she said, "are claspers?"

"Uh," said Kisame, "they're these elongated pelvic fins on male sharks…"

As Kisame's explanation grew more detailed, Sakura's eyes began a slow, horrified downward trajectory from Kisame's face to halt in the general vicinity of his groin.

Kisame slowed his descriptions of the internal fertilization process of sharks to follow Sakura's line of sight and he found that it rested in the neighborhood of Samehada junior.

"I think I'll point out now," he said hotly, "that I do not have claspers."

"Okay," said Sakura disbelievingly, "you sure know a lot about them though…"

"Kunoichi. I don't have claspers," Kisame repeated with more vehemence.

"Whatever you say," said Sakura, and she looked away and felt very freaked out because oh my god what the fuck, claspers!

"I don't," said Kisame, and when Sakura still looked at him incredulously, he snapped open his cloak and began to unzip his pants to prove it.

"Um," said Sakura, "you don't need to –"

"Oh yes I do."

"No – I believe you."

"You do not."

"No I really –"

"Nope –"

"Kisame – stop!"

And then they were fighting because Kisame was determinedly trying to take off his pants and Sakura was determinedly holding his wrists and sure as hell not letting him proceed with that particular venture.

"I believe you – okay?"

"I don't think you do –" said Kisame, and he freed a hand and tried to find his fly, which was proving to be very difficult since Sakura had grasped his pants from the front, including said fly, and more struggling ensued wherein Sakura's knuckles sometimes brushed very pleasurably on a particularly sensitive area of Kisame's anatomy and it was all good fun for him so he pretended to struggle and he let Sakura keep that up for a good five minutes.

"No damned claspers!" shouted Sakura when her hands were starting to cramp.

"Exactly," said Kisame, and then he stopped moving and let Sakura continue her panicked gripping of his pants because it looked pretty funny.

"So," said Kisame when Sakura looked up at him warily because he was no longer struggling, "are you going to let go sometime or what?"

"Eventually," said Sakura, who was in a quandary because if she let go, Kisame would be taking off his pants, and if she didn't, well, for all she knew her hand was right next to a pair of claspers about to clutch her – and plus, the area was getting suspiciously warm after all of that knuckling and grabbing.

"Just promise you won't take off your goddamn pants, okay?"

"Hmm," deliberated Kisame. "Nope."

"Well then I'll just have to keep holding this."

"That suits me just fine, babe."

When Kisame made this remark, Sakura realized that there was one option which she had neglected to consider, and that was to –

"Oh no we don't," said Kisame, and he slammed Sakura forcefully into the boulder for daring to think of such a thing, "crushing the family jewels is absolutely not allowed."

"Fucking ouch!" said Sakura, who was suddenly being smashed into a rock, "unnecessary use of force!"

Then they pushed against each other for a while and eventually Kisame whispered, "I think maybe you might want to get your hand the hell out of there" into Sakura's ear as he pressed on her because he knew that would creep her out, and Sakura took the hint and pulled her hand the hell out of there to support her against the boulder instead, and yes she was creeped out.

Sakura then reached a new level of creeped out because Kisame was doing that deep breathing thing against her neck that he had done near the campfire the night before when he was trying to restrain himself from either eating her or from initiating wild sex, she couldn't determine which.

Then Sakura realized that there was some action going on below Kisame's belt when she felt it on her stomach, which she found quite alarming, and then she figured that it was the wild sex option.

And as Kisame's happy second Samehada pressed upon her like this, Sakura had a sudden epiphany: for the first time in her life, she fully understood what it meant to be between a rock and a hard place, and it was a revelation that she could have done without.

Then, precisely because Kisame was about to give way to a manly urge, he suddenly recalled Hidan's admonition to control those manly urges, and that was a real downer in more ways than one.

"Kunoichi," he said into Sakura's hair, as if she had been the instigator of all of this, "I think that's enough fun for today."

Sakura quite agreed, except she wouldn't call it fun, she would call it horrific psychological-scar-inducing trauma. "I'm freakin' glad," she said with a forcefulness born of sincerity.

And so they moved up into the canopy and started their limb-hopping again, and in Kisame's case limb-chopping, because he had a song stuck in his head and he kept humming it and then smacking Samehada around in frustration because it was "My Cherie Amour," so what the hell!

VVVVVV


	11. Chapter 11

VVVVVV

_Day forty-six. Miscellaneous swamplands._

"Oh, yay!" said Sakura with false enthusiasm when faced with her morning meal about ten days later. "It's time for more stale gruel with extra stale gruel!"

"All part of this complete breakfast," answered Kisame with a deadpan look, and he mercilessly slopped an enormous portion into Sakura's tin bowl.

"Puke."

"Suck it up and eat, princess."

"I've decided that I'm going on a hunger strike," said Sakura after poking grimly at the grey slop, and she plonked her bowl down and stalked away.

"Cool. More for me," said Kisame, who downed Sakura's portion as well as his own without the use of a spoon.

"Barbarian," said Sakura, and she rustled around in her pack until she found the remains of the previous day's fortune cookies, which tasted infinitely better than gruel.

"Some hunger strike."

"Shut up," replied Sakura with her mouth full of fortune cookie. "Thank god for that peddler yesterday, saved my life with these. What did he want to tell you, anyway?"

"That's classified information," replied Kisame, not bothering to look up from where he was packing up for another day of travel.

"Classified. In what sense?"

"In the sense that I got instructions from higher up."

"To do what?"

"Give you a nuclear wedgie when you ask annoying questions."

"I hate you," said Sakura. She levelled a chakra-infused kick at Kisame's head where he was crouched down buckling up his gear.

He blocked the kick with two fingers and a thumb around Sakura's ankle, and with an ease that was almost offensive.

"Tut tut."

Sakura swore incoherently for a few seconds, then -- "let me go!"

"I like your ankles. Did you know?" asked Kisame, as though the purpose of Sakura's attempt to decapitate him was to allow him to inspect them.

"No. And I don't care. Let go. Don't make me get my fists involved," threatened Sakura in the most aggressive way she could, considering that she was swaying unsteadily on one leg while a scary shark-man was pensively contemplating the dip next to her Achilles tendon.

"Very nice. Especially this part," said Kisame, and he brushed his fingers on the fine bones on the outside of Sakura's ankle.

"Don't care. Let _go_." Sakura accentuated the request with a sharp jerk. "What are you doing? What the hell are you --?"

Sakura's ankle was being slowly licked by a deranged mutant killer shark.

Okay.

Officially weird.

Officially not acceptable.

Sakura swung her other leg around and made to knee Kisame with it, and brought her fists to the party, too -- but the missing-nin was too apt at taijutsu to be even remotely in hitting range by the time Sakura's furious swings came near.

"Stop doing weird shit," huffed Sakura. "Freaking creep."

"You smell damn good right now, kunoichi," responded Kisame, only without the wide toothy grin that she expected to see on his face.

He was dead serious.

Sakura decided that today was going to suck.

VVVVVV

Treetop, treetop, treetop, next treetop, Kisame, treetop, treetop, slippery branch, incoming rain, treetop, deathwish --

Sakura halted suddenly and felt Kisame stop just as abruptly on the other side of a tree trunk to her left.

There it was again -- the brief chakra flare that had caused both the medic and the missing-nin to interrupt their race through the trees.

Kisame was beside Sakura before she could blink, Samehada at the ready.

"Do me a favour," he said.

"What?"

"Don't do any stupid shit."

"I'll try," replied Sakura, firmly promising herself that if the opportunity to do stupid shit came up, she would take it, especially if it meant getting word out to the person belonging to that chakra flare that she was being held against her will by a large carnivorous sea creature with a pigment problem.

"Good. Now stop standing there in broad daylight like a moron."

"Excuse --"

"Get your pink ass over here," said Kisame, and he pulled Sakura into the shadows of the nearest tree trunk, where she nestled quite unhappily between Kisame behind her and the Samehada in front of her, which was masquerading through genjutsu as a large slab of mossy tree bark.

Seconds ticked by slower than molasses in winter as the person -- no, people, now -- whose chakra had alerted Kisame and Sakura approached.

Sakura wisely muffled her chakra signature -- any warning flare on her part would be imbecilic at this point, considering that the ever-hungry Samehada was inches from her nose and the ever-dangerous Kisame was breathing in her hair and did not seem in the mood to play games.

"Mist nin," said Kisame into Sakura's hair.

"Mist nin…?" Sakura shivered -- she liked to think that it was because of the fact that a minor horde of Mist nin were approaching, and not because of Kisame's hot breath in her hair -- and she wondered in a low whisper, for the zillionth time, where the hell she was.

"Not in Kansas any more," said Kisame helpfully.

"No shit, Dorothy," retorted Sakura.

"I ate Toto."

"You really are a beast."

"You have _no_ idea."

Sakura didn't need to see his face to know that he was grinning.

The chakra signatures were extinguishing one by one: someone must have sensed them, and word was going around the Mist nin group.

Sakura backed into Kisame, waiting for a lethal hail of kunai and shuriken to whistle towards them at any minute. And as she pressed nervously into Kisame's chest, she realized with a start that, quite frankly, there was probably no safer place to be than right here between Kisame's arms and the Samehada. Which was an odd and disconcerting realization, and one that she dismissed from her mind in favour of more pressing concerns.

"We know you're there," came a voice from somewhere below where Kisame and Sakura were perched behind the camouflaged Samehada.

"You're outnumbered," came another voice from somewhere on the right.

"You're outclassed," replied Kisame, his voice echoing weirdly among the wet foliage.

"You're full of shit," whispered Sakura for Kisame's benefit. All she got for this brilliant observation was a sharp pinch in the ass, which she solemnly vowed to reciprocate later.

"Don't make us explode you out of there," came a third Mist nin's voice. "Drop your weapons and show yourselves."

At the mention of explosions, Kisame tensed behind Sakura. Then, without so much as a by-your-leave, he pushed by Sakura, shook Samehada out of its bindings, and landed on the forest floor with an intimidating thud.

"Hi boys," he said, swinging the enormous sword up with an easy flourish. "Let the good times roll."

Sakura saw two of the nin get on Kisame in a flash -- damn, those Mist nin were fast -- and saw them disembowelled just as quickly.

Oh.

"Puke," said Sakura for the second time that day.

The remark did not go unnoticed: Sakura felt rather than saw a flash of black coming up on her right, which she responded to with a surge of chakra to her fists.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing all the way out here?" asked the Mist nin who was wheeling through the air towards her. Sakura was about to respond very shrilly and honestly -- that she was Kisame's captive and oh god please would someone help her -- but the nin who had posed the question did not seem as interested in hearing her answer as he was in seeing her kunai-embedded corpse rot on the forest floor.

"I'll tell you when you wake up from your concussion," said Sakura, and her knuckles made full and immediate contact with the unfortunate nin's forehead protector. He fell to the ground thirty feet below with a bone-breaking crash.

"Hold!" came an order from, Sakura assumed, the Mist squadron's captain, who materialized at a safe distance from both Kisame and Sakura and was contemplating the blue Akatsuki with great interest. Sakura felt the Mist nin milling around the area grow still at their captain's command.

"Hoshigaki Kisame. One of the Seven Swordsmen. The Monster of the Hidden Mist," said the Mist captain, eyeing Kisame from his perch on a limb.

"You forgot S-class missing nin, stupid," said Kisame.

"We all know what you are."

"Cool. Are we taking a break or something?" asked Kisame, gesturing with the bloodied Samehada at the concealed Mist nin who were surrounding him, but not moving.

"It will be our pleasure to take you down, missing nin. But first, who is the girl?"

"Fresh meat."

"She stays alive for questioning," said the captain to his men. "As for you, Hoshigaki Kisame, defector from the Hidden Mist -- how will you fare against a full squadron of nin who know your techniques inside and out?"

"Think I can handle it," said Kisame. "But I wouldn't recommend touching the girl."

"And why would that be?"

"She's a kunoichi."

The Mist captain scoffed, his slightly pointed teeth flashing in the leafy penumbra. "And?"

"Let me clarify," said Kisame. "She's _my _kunoichi. Rest in peace, son."

And with that, Kisame was beside the Mist captain on his high branch and -- a half second later -- the captain's skull was crushed into a tree trunk by a large blue fist.

VVVVVV

Water. Lots of freaking water. That was Sakura's impression of the fight between the Mist nin squadron and one of their own. That village must have been some kind of clean, with people hosing each other down like rogue fire hydrants at every opportunity.

Also, there was a list of dead Mist ninja as long as Sakura's arm.

That list did not, unfortunately (or was it fortunately, she wasn't sure anymore) include Kisame, who emerged from the fight rather wetter than he entered it, and perhaps a little bit more tired, but not remotely less full of himself.

"Mist's finest," he said to Sakura with a dismissive gesture to a pool of water six feet deep that was slowly seeping into the forest floor, revealing nin bodies hanging on buttress roots, or floating face-down in the slow current. "Place went to shit after I left."

"You mean because you left."

"Dunno. Nice job cracking that guy's forehead protector, by the way."

"I thought he was going to save me from you, and I was going to surrender to him peacefully, but it turned out he just wanted to stab me to death. I don't take that kind of crap."

"You put the fist in pacifist."

"Right," said Sakura, looking anywhere but at the pool of corpses below her or the breathless, but satisfied, ninja beside her. Kisame was dangerous and homicidal, and she knew that, but she kept forgetting it somehow -- until she was freshly reminded by the brutal massacres that happened, apparently, on a horrifyingly regular basis around him.

She changed the subject for the sake of her own sanity.

"So anyway," she said as she began to lead away from the scene, "what the hell was that about me being _your _kunoichi? Seriously…"

"That?" said Kisame as he followed her, not a trace of regret on his face as he leapt over nameless bodies below. "Testosterone trip."

"I see."

"Killed them all for trying to mess with you," said Kisame. "I am so badass right now. Where are the cookies?"

"Wha-- for me? badass -- the cookies?" Sakura repeated, then shut up because she sounded like a confused cretin. Which she was. Whatever.

"They're in my pack -- and we are _not _eating over dead people, Kisame, so let's haul ass --"

"Aw, kunoichi. I wanted to eat the dead people."

"God. Why. Me?" Sakura asked, directing the query to the silent forest around her and eliciting no response whatsoever.

Meanwhile, Kisame made as if to climb down to lower branches to start feasting on the dead nin, much to Sakura's horror. After hopping down a few limbs, however, he merely looked back up to see Sakura's shocked face, and let out a booming laugh.

"Kunoichi," he said, flipping back up to Sakura's level. "That's Zetsu's thing. Don't get too confused."

"I'm not confused -- I just think you're capable of anything," retorted Sakura with a black look.

"I'm flattered."

"Don't be. You giant shark creep killer thing --"

"Hey."

"--with claspers--"

"Don't have claspers. Remind me to flash you sometime."

"Remind me to gouge out my eyes with Samehada."

"Hot."

"Fuck you."

"Hot!"

And Sakura screamed her frustration to the trees.

VVVVVV


	12. Chapter 12

VVVVVV

The forest was, as far as Sakura could tell, turning to mush. She was sweating, the ambient humidity was at about a billion percent, and her dearest wish was to teleport to somewhere cold where she could catch hypothermia and die peacefully.

"What the hell kind of disgusting swamp are we going through, here?" she asked irritably, almost slipping off of her current branch because of the slimy moss covering it.

"Can't tell you where we are."

"Well we're obviously somewhere near the Country of Water -- don't think bands of Mist nin go wandering anywhere else."

"Can't slip anything past you."

"So is this where you come from? Explains a lot," said Sakura as she squelched cautiously to the next branch.

"What's that supposed to mean, kunoichi?"

"You're stinky and slimy and you ruin my shoes."

"Haw. I also make you sweat, apparently," said Kisame, who turned to the flushed and steaming Sakura and favoured her with his best leer. He swiped a finger down her throat and her collarbone, following a beaded trail of perspiration down, down, down --

"Nice, kunoichi," he said, and withdrew his hand just before Sakura could break his finger off.

"I'm not from here, anyway," he continued, as if he had not just been completely obnoxious and sent Sakura's heart racing at two hundred beats per minute (out of fear, and disgust, that is -- nothing else, okay, goddamn it). "Country of Water is an island. We haven't crossed a body of water."

"Unless you count the Pool of Death back there."

"Please. That was a puddle. Geography's not your strong point, huh, sweetcheeks?"

"Nope. And don't call me that you, you smug piece of crap."

"On a related note, sweetcheeks…"

"What?"

"How do you feel about boats?"

"… I hate them with a passion, especially those that go to the Country of Water."

"I'm just asking to make conversation, not because you actually have a choice in the matter," said Kisame, grinning down at Sakura, six feet of blue wickedness. "You'll love it. We're travelling first class."

VVVVVV

The swampy forest gradually gave way to salt marshes, dunes, reedy beach, and then -- the sea.

Being brought to an isolated island Country could only mean bad things for Sakura: those searching for her -- if there were any left searching for her -- would not find passage to the Country of Water easy to obtain. And the entire Country was formed of hundreds of clusters of misty, unmapped islands dotting the slate-grey sea. How the hell was she supposed to be found?

Sakura wondered whether now would be a good time to break up this party. Which was the same question she had asked herself every day since she had been captured. And every day the vigilance of her captor did not fluctuate one iota -- his eyes were always on her, his Samehada always threatening to divest her of her only means of survival, and then there was that cursed bond…

Speaking of which…

"Gah. Can't you loosen this up?"

"I like it tight," answered Kisame, with a smirk and a tug at the chakra bond. Sakura was limited to a two-foot radius around him, and needless to say, that felt like an extremely short leash to the Leaf ninja.

"But it wasn't like this five minutes ago --"

"Kunoichi, guess what? Shut the hell up."

Sakura sank into silence and a very bad mood.

"We're heading to the port. 'Bout fifteen minutes away. It might be a busy place. You know what that means?"

"I'll be on my best behaviour," said Sakura morosely.

"Good," answered Kisame. "And also -- this."

"… Sonovabitchgoddamnyoutohell!"

There went Sakura's chakra -- sucked up by Samehada like a friggin' cherry slushie.

"Can't risk you pulling anything, shortstuff."

"Don't talk to me," hissed Sakura, hopeless, weakened, and pissed off.

"I love you too."

VVVVVV

The little port appeared through the mist before them like a rustic scene from a post card… a post card of a place visited by only the terminally depressed. Sad small boats rocked to and fro on a choppy sea, a few impoverished sailors and dock workers idled by dry nets and unused anchors, and Sakura longed for someone to look her way so that she could give some sign of her distress…

So, of course, Kisame steered her carefully away from anyone and kept her determinedly out of speaking range.

"Excited, kunoichi?" asked Kisame, looking towards the boats with something akin to happiness.

Sakura looked at the little boats heaving up and down on the grey waves.

"Just looking at them is sapping my will to live."

"Hope you have pills for seasickness. Don't want you hurling on my cloak."

"I'm a medic-nin," huffed Sakura. "I can take care of myself. Remind me where we're going?"

"We're going to give you nuclear wedgie."

"Try it and I'll cut your balls off."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"…I'm going to hurl on you on purpose, you bastard. Where's our boat?"

"Bit further out because it's a bigger ship, can't see it because of the mist."

Sakura squinted to where Kisame was looking, unable to see anything through the dense white fog.

"You said first class, right?" asked Sakura hopefully.

"Yeah. Not that we're paying for it or anything," answered Kisame. "Ready, kunoichi?"

"Not paying? Ready for wha-- gah!"

The next thing she knew, Sakura was under water, clasped to Kisame, and drowning.

No wait. She was not drowning, because she was breathing.

But she was under water. So she must be drowning.

… or maybe she was in some giant bubble of Kisame's creation and moving swiftly with the receding tide towards the larger ship off shore.

"Holy crap!" said Sakura as the steely-grey underwater world opened up before her eyes, slightly distorted by the bubble that protected her from it. Clusters of rocks, schools of fish, and long strands of kelp raced by underneath her, and above her, waves broke and reformed and broke again in spumes of foam.

"You like?" asked Kisame, holding Sakura to him with one strong arm while the other maintained this chakra bubble.

"I -- oh my god, is that a shark?"

It was indeed -- sleek, grey-blue, all streamlined angles and sharp teeth, and keeping up effortlessly with the speed of their movement through the water.

"Relative of yours?" asked Sakura, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice at the sight of the large killing machine keeping pace with them.

"How did you guess," answered Kisame flatly, fixing the creature with an unblinking pale stare identical to its own. "He thinks you look tasty."

"Tell him I taste like piss and vinegar, and to go to hell."

"Haw. I already know you taste good, kunoichi."

"Mmf."

"And smell good."

"Right."

"Look pretty good."

"_Pretty_ good?" exclaimed Sakura in a surge of feminine pride.

"Don't want to get myself too excited here," said Kisame, rolling Sakura around so that she was facing him in his one-armed hug.

"Right. I'm totally ugly anyways."

"I can barely stand the sight of you," agreed Kisame with a critical look at her face.

"Okay. Thank god."

"Yep," said Kisame, even as his eyes travelled down Sakura's face like he was trying to decide whether to eat her or…

"Quit it with that look," warned Sakura. "We are under water in a weird bubble and being followed by a a shark. This is not the time to have me kicking your butt."

"That's not very intimidating, coming from a chakra-less shrimp."

Sakura set her jaw dangerously. Which was all the warning Kisame got when she proceeded to execute the top-secret ninja technique of Nipple Twist No Jutsu with breathtaking rapidity.

"What the f--?"

Kisame was not amused, almost loosing control of his bubble in his irritation. Sakura giggled unrepentantly.

"That's for pinching my ass earlier."

"That was a friendly pinch," said Kisame. "Allow me to demonstrate what an unfriendly ass-pinch feels like --"

Sakura caught his hand before it could slide any lower. "Don't think so."

"That nipple twist hurt like a mother, kunoichi."

"I know, right?"

"It's going to bruise."

"Good."

"You're going to heal it for me when it does."

"Nuh-uh."

"It wasn't a request."

Sakura sank into pouty silence and fixed Kisame's collarbone with a glare of death for the last few minutes of their underwater journey. Out of the grey waters ahead of them loomed the hull of an equally grey ship, some kind of large cargo vessel whose name Sakura could not make out.

Kisame held Sakura to him and propelled them out of the water and onto a thin steel ladder fixed to the side of the hull.

"Sixth porthole up," he directed, and favoured Sakura with an encouraging smack on the butt. "Get climbing."

"I swear to god if you slap my ass again I will --"

"Climb faster or I'll do worse," said Kisame, dragging his hand up Sakura's thigh.

Sakura started climbing pretty damned fast after that, thanking the heavens for the piece of fashion sense that had always guided her to wear her training shorts under her skirts.

Kisame nevertheless commented about the view, and almost got Sakura's sensible two-inch heel implanted in his eye for his troubles.

"Sweetcheeks for real," said Kisame to Sakura's butt from a safe distance.

"Go to hell," said Sakura, unlatching a porthole next to the ladder. "It was this one, right?"

"Right. Get in. Don't move. I'll meet you there."

"Meet me there…?" asked Sakura, half-in and half-out of the narrow porthole.

Kisame's answer was to shove the rest of her into the cabin and seal the porthole from outside.

Sakura collapsed onto a narrow bunk and took stock of her surroundings: she was in quite possibly the tiniest room known to mankind; the bunk had a larger square footage than the floorspace, which was saying something, and the attached bathroom and shower had by all appearances been conceived for dwarves.

However, there was a door. Which led, presumably, to the rest of the ship -- and a cargo ship this large was bound to have hundreds of passages and dozens of decks and machine rooms and places where a skilled, if chakra-less, kunoichi, could quite satisfactorily hide from S-class missing nin.

Sakura moved with determined strides to the door and reached for the handle -- and the door was slammed open in her face.

"Goddamn it, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Going somewhere, sweetheart?"

"Absolutely not. Just wanted to test the handle." Sakura fixed Kisame with a blank, perfectly innocent look.

"I see. Guess what?"

"What?"

"We're in cabin 69," said Kisame, pointing at the faded numbering on the door. "Nice."

"Disagree. It's not nice. I thought you said this was first class."

"First class on a cargo, babe. I'm travelling on a budget, here."

"But we're not even paying! You _could _have found a cruise liner…"

"I got connections on this ship," said Kisame. "No one's going to mess around with me. Plus, they're carrying an illegal shipment -- so they're going to be taking the backways to get to the Country. Which suits us just fine, since we want to be discreet."

"What's the illegal shipment?" asked Sakura, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

"Sixty two tons of Viagra."

Sakura stared at the ceiling.

"Why, god,_ why_."

"Some men have trouble getting it up," Kisame said, answering Sakura's rhetorical question. "I don't."

Sakura rolled her eyes and occupied herself with an inspection of the midget bathroom.

"Demo time?" asked Kisame from behind her.

"I'm aware that you have no trouble whatsoever getting it up," said Sakura darkly.

"It could be fun," said Kisame, and he moved towards Sakura with a large and frightening smile.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because…!"

"That's a shitty reason," said Kisame.

"Speaking of shitty, this toilet is disgusting."

"You want I hose it down?" asked Kisame after having looked at the thing over Sakura's shoulder with a similar expression of distaste.

"… okay…"

Kisame tossed Sakura his cloak and cracked his knuckles.

Those water jutsus sure did come in handy, reflected Sakura as the bathroom was treated to a thorough blasting that washed the nastiness into the bilges.

"You should open a car wash or something."

"I prefer killing people."

"... okay. I guess that's cool."

Sakura perched on the single bunk, using Kisame's balled-up cloak as a backrest, and watched the sea and sky outside slip by. "How long are we boating for?"

"We'll get there in the morning," replied Kisame, emerging from the bathroom dripping wet from his cleaning project. He whipped off the black and mesh shirt that was sticking wetly to him and turned to the sink to squeeze it out.

And Sakura was _so not_ looking at how the muscles in his back moved as he did this.

Because he was blue.

And a killer.

Okay?

Okay.

Meanwhile, Kisame was taking off his pants.

And, oh god, his boxers.

Sakura stared fixedly out of the porthole, as though the wispy grey skies were the most interesting thing she had ever seen in her life.

"Where'd I put my stuff?" muttered Kisame as he ruffled among their belongings for dry clothes. "Kunoichi! Where's my pack --"

Sakura whipped around reflexively when called -- and got an eyeful.

"Goddamn it! Put your junk away!"

"Haw," said Kisame, who had finally found his stuff. "No claspers?"

"No claspers," breathed Sakura, feeling a blush spread across her cheeks, ninja or not.

"Sure you don't want a closer inspection?" offered Kisame.

"_No_."

"Suit yourself," said Kisame, pulling on new boxers and pants.

Sakura stared out of the window until the creaking sag of the bunk informed her that Kisame was sitting next to her.

"Jeez -- how much do you weigh? You're going to break this thing."

"Dunno. Wouldn't be the first time I broke a bed."

"No kidding. I remember."

"Good times, kunoichi."

Sakura couldn't hold back a rueful smirk at Kisame's complete lack of remorse.

"This place needs more furniture," she declared after they had sat in silence for a while and she felt too close to Kisame. Who was, as she could tell from the blue expanse that flashed at the corner of her eye, still shirtless. And leaning back on his elbows. And looking at her.

"You're welcome to sit on the toilet," said Kisame.

Also, still a jerk.

Sakura turned to glare at him and say something pissy -- and then burst out laughing.

"What's so damn funny?"

"Your hair!" snorted Sakura. "It's all messed up!"

"Yeah, well --" said Kisame, brushing a hand experimentally among the blue strands to assess the damage. "I got wet."

"Lemme fix it."

Kisame eyed Sakura warily as she leaned in, a mischievous laugh lingering in her eyes.

"Let's try a side part," she said, running a hand through his hair sideways.

This attempt resulted in another scream of laughter from Sakura, who kindly informed Kisame that with his hair like that, he looked like a total dweeb.

"No shit, kunoichi," said Kisame, batting away her hands irritably.

"Okay okay -- wait. I'll do it properly," said Sakura, biting her lip to keep from laughing as she drew his hair out of the side part and upwards to its usual gravity-defying state.

"No wait. Now it looks like an afro."

"You are the worst hairdresser that has ever touched my hair. In my life."

"Liar. I'm probably the only thing approaching a hairdresser you have ever had touching your hair in your life," retorted Sakura.

"True."

"Really?…"

"Yeah. So?"

"I dunno," said Sakura. "That's just… weird."

"You think missing nin visit hairstylists on a regular basis, kunoichi?" asked Kisame, eyes half-closed as Sakura drew slim fingers up and through his hair.

"I guess not…" answered Sakura, twisting a strand of Kisame's hair pensively. "Though that Deidara guy had amazing hair."

"Yeah well. We can't all get contracts with Pantene," muttered Kisame grumpily.

"Your hair curls!" exclaimed Sakura suddenly. "How adorable!"

Kisame favoured her with a glare before brushed his hair sharply upwards because he held curls to be effeminate.

"Aww," said Sakura. "What did you do that for?"

"Too girly."

"I thought it was cute."

"Don't give a damn what you think," said Kisame with a large grin.

Sakura punched him in the gut.

She had no chakra.

It was completely hilarious.

Sakura muttered about Kisame's Teflon abs and the injustice of it all.

"Teflon? Nice," said Kisame, inspecting his (disgustingly well-defined, in Sakura's opinion) abs with pride.

"How about my pecs?" he asked.

"Horrible. Saggy. Granny boobs."

"Liar."

"Nope."

"Hey, I give you compliments all the time. Let's make it mutual, kunoichi."

"Nothing to compliment you about," said Sakura, trying to hide a grin because Kisame was twitching his pecs in the most ridiculous fashion. "Except your hair when it curled, but you ruined it. So there."

"I have pretty amazing biceps too, I must say" said Kisame, completely ignoring her. "You need a license for guns like these."

"Whatever."

"I'm totally ripped."

"What_ever_."

"I can lift my own house."

"Please."

"Okay, maybe not. I could lift you with one hand, though."

"With those noodle arms?"

"Noodle? Excuse me? Lemme show you."

"Do not even think about it."

Sakura squirmed away from Kisame's seeking hand, which he had by all appearances intended to wedge under her butt to proceed to lift her.

"Speaking of noodles," she said when she had successfully avoided the attack and Kisame had lost interest, "I'm starving."

"Me too," said Kisame. "Very hungry."

"Why are you looking at _me_ like I'm a friggin' bowl of noodles?"

Kisame grinned.

Sakura glared.

Someone's stomach rumbled like an incoming storm.

"Alright," said Kisame, getting up. "I'm going to find out what kind of crap they serve here. You don't move from that spot. Or I kill you."

"Okay. I promise," said Sakura with her best serious face on.

Kisame's eyes bored into hers like pale flint.

"You're full of it," he said, and proceeded to rope Sakura to a protruding rail with a decisiveness and speed that enraged her.

"I wasn't going to do anything," said Sakura. "You shithead. See if I ever fix your hair for you again."

"Heh. Hey, thanks for keeping my cloak warm," said Kisame, unravelling Sakura's erstwhile backrest and putting it on. "Mm. Smells good."

"Screw you."

"Okay, kunoichi -- but later," said Kisame with a broad wink as he disappeared into the hall, slamming the door behind him.

VVVVVV

The door re-opened noisily about ten minutes later and Kisame entered, bearing instant noodle packages and a large kettle.

"First class dinner service," he said, plucking Sakura's restraints off as though they were strands of seaweed.

"Finally. I'm starving. I'd eat that shark from earlier if you killed it."

"You can eat this shark," said Kisame.

"I don't think you look very fresh," sniffed Sakura.

"Don't knock it before you try it," said Kisame, dropping his supplies on the bunk and pushing his face into Sakura's. "Have a taste? Just a small one."

"I don't think so."

Kisame drew his mouth into a sulk.

"Fine. You know what? No noodles."

"You're blackmailing me?"

"Absolutely."

"Well I'd rather starve," said Sakura, even as she salivated at the thought of that spicy chicken noodle package that was lying a hand's breadth away.

"You sure?"

"I…"

Holy crap, she had never seen him this close-up before.

And holy crap, she was hungry.

"Fine," said Sakura.

And she pressed a tiny kiss on Kisame's cheek, their forehead protectors clinking together lightly as she did so.

"That's it?" asked Kisame.

"That is so it."

"Shitty deal," said Kisame, and he backed off and tossed a package of noodles at Sakura's head.

"… this is the wrong flavour," said Sakura grumpily as Kisame filled the kettle.

"What flavour do you want?"

"The spicy chicken…"

"You know what to do," said Kisame. Lots of teeth. He could totally work with this.

Sakura fixed him with a stare that would have killed a lesser man.

She stared at the package of _Meat Surprise! _noodles in her hand.

"I hate you," she said as she tossed the package aside and strode up to Kisame.

Two fists grabbed the high collar of his cloak, two svelte arms forced his face down to her level, and Kisame received the most fierce and angry kiss that Sakura had ever given in her life.

Needless to say, he enjoyed it very much.

"Mmf-- sexy when you're mad," whispered Kisame to the corner of Sakura's mouth.

Sakura's jaw tightened and she whispered just as low: "spicy chicken. And don't overcook them."

They remained fixed in a staring match for a few moments, until Sakura decided that she had totally just proved that she had a pair -- figuratively speaking -- and stalked away.

"Yes ma'am," said Kisame, running his tongue thoughtfully over his lower lip as Sakura backed up to the bunk in a huff. The movement was not lost on her, and her green eyes darkened dangerously at Kisame.

She was totally going to wipe that smirk off of his face one day, she reflected a few minutes later as she slurped up her hard-earned fare.

Also, he made a damn good bowl of noodles.

"What did you put in here?" inquired Sakura.

"Drugs," said Kisame flatly.

"No, I mean really."

"Piss and vinegar."

"Ugh."

"Extra soy sauce. Not hard, kunoichi."

"Oh…"

They finished their meal in companionable silence, and Sakura felt the wave of sleepiness that always accompanies a hot dinner wash lazily over her.

"I got desert," said Kisame, holding up two granola bars like they were gold ingots.

"Score!"

"They're only for me, unfortunately," said Kisame, unwrapping one of them and demolishing it as he spoke. "I need my energy."

"What? I just got completely sapped of my chakra this morning, here -- if anyone needs energy, it's me, goddamn!"

"You want to convince me, kunoichi?"

"No. Don't make this a habit, please."

"I think it's a great habit to cultivate. Best idea I've had all month," said Kisame, contemplating Sakura as he chewed. "You're so damn skittish."

"I'm not _skittish _-- and besides, anyone in their right mind should be skittish around you. Jeez."

"So you are skittish," said Kisame as he casually unwrapped the second granola bar.

"Whatever. Seriously. Aren't you going to share?"

"Nope. Hey. I got a bruised nipple."

"Kisame," said Sakura as the granola bar made its way to his mouth. "What's blue and does a three-sixty?"

"Dunno," said Kisame, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Your other nipple if you eat my granola bar."

Kisame slowly drew the bar away from his mouth and pinned Sakura with a look of death that quite rivalled one of her own.

"You got a death wish, kunoichi?" he asked, snapping the bar in half and flipping one part into his mouth.

Sakura smacked the bunk's thin mattress in exasperation as he chewed. "Ass. What kind is it?"

"Horse shit and spider guts."

"Mm. My favourite."

Kisame swallowed and contemplated the final piece of granola bar. "Naw. Chocolate chips and marshmallow."

"Chocolate chips and marshmallow?" Sakura almost started to cry. "What do you want me to do, you blackmailing son of a… shark…"

Kisame's response was to flip off his cloak and pull off his shirt.

"No," said Sakura, backing off of the bunk. "Keep your damn clothes on, and your damn granola bar too -- I am not some kind of a--"

"Chill, babe," said Kisame. "Just want you to fix this nipple bruise you gave me. Tweaks every time I move."

"Oh," breathed Sakura. "Can do."

She perched next to Kisame with a wary look before inspecting the damage.

"Damn, I'm good!" said Sakura. "Textbook nipple twist. A plus."

Kisame twitched a pectoral in response. Which would have been funny and sexy on any other man at any other moment, but in this case it was accompanied by a stormy look that just made Sakura get on with it.

"You realize that I've only regenerated about ten percent of my chakra since you stole it like a jerk this morning?"

"So?"

"So I'm about to waste it on you."

"Good. You got your priorities straight."

"If I could kill you, I would," said Sakura.

"Likewise."

Sakura reflected that she was a filthy liar.

Kisame reflected that he was a filthy liar.

They kept these thoughts to themselves.

Sakura charged her palm up with healing chakra, its green, beneficial light just a shade off the colour of her own eyes. With significantly less gentleness than she would use on a regular patient, she glided her hand over Kisame's pectoral, stroking the bruising away.

"Ooh," said Kisame. "Tingly."

"Yeah. I can't really tell how much of the bruising I've reduced -- because bruises are blue, and you're blue. How's this feel?" Sakura accompanied her question with pressure from her thumb on the area in question.

"Really good," said Kisame. "Keep doing it."

Sakura snapped her eyes to his. "Don't tell me you have a healing fetish."

"I'm in the process of developing one right now," Kisame answered with a lazy look towards her.

"Gah!" cried Sakura in exasperation. "We are done here. Where's my granola bar?"

"In my pants," said Kisame, hooking his hands behind his head and leaning against the wall behind the bunk. "Come get it."

"Go to hell," replied Sakura.

Kisame grinned. "Not _that _granola bar -- which is, by the way, way bigger. Yours is in my pocket, dumbass."

"Well -- hand it over!"

"Naw."

"Hate you," said Sakura as she lifted herself towards him and jammed a hand into his pocket, making very sure to not go anywhere near the big granola bar. "It's not here."

"Other side."

"Goddamn!" said Sakura into Kisame's face as she leaned over to his other pocket. Kisame watched her at it, his expressionless face belied by the highly amused light in his eyes. Sakura's jaw tightened significantly.

"Take your time."

"No thanks. Got it."

Sakura retreated to the porthole so she could enjoy her prize in silence, and not pay attention to the infuriating missing nin who was watching her with an unnerving intensity.

She chewed thoughtfully, elbow propped up on the porthole frame, as she watched clouds of fog roll by in the night, obscuring even the sea just below her with its white density.

"Hey -- there's a light out there!" she said suddenly as a small yellow flash briefly illuminated the darkness.

Kisame strode over to the porthole, scouring the mist with eyes that were used to seeing through its billows and curls.

"Port light," he stated. "We must be dropping something off."

A sudden stillness ran through the ship, and Sakura guessed that the engines had been turned off.

"Aw, I know where we are now," said Kisame, having studied the black shoreline in the brief intervals that the light flashed. "Rat hole of an island, even by Mist standards. Brothel town."

"Lovely," said Sakura. "I hope we don't all catch pubic lice and herpes."

"Good point. We should inspect each others' --"

"Holy crap, no," said Sakura, biting back a laugh with difficulty. "Anyway, we aren't getting off. Right?"

"What do you mean by getting off?" asked Kisame into Sakura's hair.

"Getting off the _boat_," clarified Sakura, and she elbowed Kisame quite sharply. "I swear, sometimes…"

Silence followed as they watched boxes being unloaded into little rowboats that surged through the mist. Sakura supposed that Viagra deliveries were an essential part of the brothel business.

"Where are _we_ going?" asked Sakura, looking at Kisame's face next to hers in the reflection of the glass.

"Hm -- what?" asked Kisame, whose eyes had been locked on the triangular dip above Sakura's collarbone, watching her pulse beat for reasons known only to him.

"Never mind. Also, I'm buying a turtleneck at our next stop. Jeez."

"Can't allow that, sorry," said Kisame, completely unembarrassed.

Sakura slipped out from between him and the porthole with an irritated huff. "I'm going to bed. I call the bunk."

Kisame looked sceptically at the narrow floor space. Sakura followed his gaze.

"I guess you can sleep in the fetal position -- if you put your head in the bathroom you should have enough space." Sakura delivered this thoughtful advice with as straight a face as she could muster.

"Yeah. Uh. Not happening," said Kisame with decisive finality. "We get to spend the night spooning again, kunoichi."

"No way. _I__'__ll_ sleep on the floor."

"I had such a great dream last time we did --"

"I so do not want to hear it," said Sakura, flipping out her bedroll grumpily. It would not even lie flat, curling up against a wall or a door at every side. Sakura kicked and shoved at it and finally curled up in the middle, completely uncomfortable but feeling extremely mulish.

Kisame stretched out as best he could on the narrow bunk and smirked at her. "I'll try not to step on you at night."

Sakura turned around to ignore him, soundly bruising both kneecaps on the bathroom's doorframe as she did so. "Damn it!"

"Why so stubborn, kunoichi?"

"Shush, I'm sleeping," replied Sakura.

Silence fell as the two ninja stilled and tried to slip into much-needed slumber.

Two hours alter, only one of them was successful.

As for the one on the floor, she hated everything in the whole world and if she could flush it down the toilet, she would.

Sakura rose, feeling antsy, cramped, and full of a slight febrile energy as her body worked to restore her stolen chakra while she was at rest.

She went to the porthole, looking out on a world of black and billowing greys that drifted by like an illusion under the hesitant light of the moon.

A movement below caught her eye -- at first she thought it was the shadow of a wave, but as she focused on it she made out a sharp black fin slicing the water.

And another one.

And another.

And half a dozen more.

Sakura did not know if the chilling, silent school of sharks was endemic to the waters of the area -- or if they were following because of the shark-man who she was currently sharing a cabin with. Either way, those waters were death -- and Sakura let go of the few half-formed plans of chaos and escape that she had formed since arriving on the ship. It wasn't the right time yet.

With Kisame as her captor, it was never the right time. He was too fast, too strong, too careful, too everything. And he could sap away the one thing that made her strong with one touch of that damned sword.

Sakura levelled a look at Samehada where it was leaning on the wall next to her, neatly wrapped in its white bindings. Thoughts of vandalism struck her, but -- what was she supposed to do with it when touching it reduced her to nothing?

She settled for observing the thing carefully as it rested, inoffensive as a plank of wood, against the wall. She thought it was an illusion brought about by the curls of fog that drifted past the moon but -- it seemed to be moving slightly. The bindings tightened and released a fraction of an inch at almost the same rate as…

Oh, god. It was _breathing_.

Sakura recoiled from the sword, simultaneously horrified and fascinated by the weird quasi-sentience of it.

"Kunoichi."

It took every atom of Sakura's self-discipline to not jump out of her skin when Kisame called her from the shadowy bunk.

"Y-yes?" she asked brightly, her heart in her throat.

"What are you doing?"

Kisame's voice was cold and low, and Sakura felt very glad that her only offence had been looking at his prized weapon -- and nothing else.

"Couldn't sleep," answered Sakura. "Too cramped. And -- chakra building up again."

"Come here."

The tone brooked no argument, and Sakura wisely followed the command.

"Lay down."

Sakura lay down next to Kisame, who lifted her bodily and placed her firmly on her side, then tightened the chakra bond that had been laying slack until Sakura was huddled against him.

"Don't try anything with my sword. If it doesn't kill you, I will," said Kisame into Sakura's ear.

"But I wasn't--"

"Sleep."

VVVVVV


End file.
